


Hell is a Gay Bar

by sultrysweet



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Season 5B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:44:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 44,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrysweet/pseuds/sultrysweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going to Camelot wasn’t a successful mission by any means, but Regina makes a decision—and a sacrifice—that saves Emma the way the town had hoped to accomplish. It’s not immediate, however, and she’s stuck in Hell until Emma can get through to her in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hell is a Gay Bar - fanart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5859184) by [kjdawson80](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjdawson80/pseuds/kjdawson80). 



> Thank you so much to my beta, Aaisha, who handled my procrastination like a pro, and to ExquisitelilTart for pairing me up with her and helping me with so many other pre-Bang problems I had. Thank you to Tiff, my busy but wonderfully positive cheerleader. Thank you to my artist, kjdawson80, for not only requesting my fic but also for waiting out for the last half of the fic to be finished as the deadline closed in on us to get this done. And a big thank you to Tiff and Lola for putting on this fantastic event. I'm glad I was able to finally be a part of a Big Bang and it's extra special to me knowing that it'll be the last they host. Thank you so, so much for all you've done in the past for SQBB and all that you've continued to do throughout this final Bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to my beta, Aaisha, who handled my procrastination like a pro, and to ExquisitelilTart for pairing me up with her and helping me with so many other pre-Bang problems I had. Thank you to Tiff, my busy but wonderfully positive cheerleader. Thank you to my artist, kjdawson80, for not only requesting my fic but also for waiting out for the last half of the fic to be finished as the deadline closed in on us to get this done. Thanks to LZClotho for talking me through a few of my concerns early on in this.
> 
> And a big thank you to Tiff and Lola for putting on this fantastic event. I'm glad I was able to finally be a part of a Big Bang and it's extra special to me knowing that it'll be the last they host. Thank you so, so much for all you've done in the past for SQBB and all that you've continued to do throughout this final Bang.

Hades is a flaming homosexual. Literally. His hair is actual fire that changes from blue to red, depending on his mood, and he flirts with every guy that walks into his extremely nice, but almost _wildly_ eccentric, establishment.

Hell is a gay bar and every night is acceptance night. But tonight is also Ladies Night, which works well for Regina since she’s currently stuck there without her son and the person for whom she’d sacrificed herself. She didn’t expect it. _Any_ of it. The sacrifice she’d made, her easy willingness to make the sacrifice at all, and where she ended up when it was all over. Although it’s not as if anything in her life has ever been what she’d expected. She really shouldn’t be surprised her arrival in Hell isn’t any different.

She sits on a well-cushioned bar stool, her forearms pressed into the edge of the counter in front of her, and nurses her first drink of the night. She swishes the whiskey around in her glass in slow, circular motions as her hand hovers over the countertop. It’s a mindless action, one she’s not conscious of doing, and her eyes stare blankly ahead at the wall of liquor behind the bar. There are several brands of every kind of liquor, some brands stronger than others, and she starts to consider which will get her drunker quicker. She’s not in the mood to be sober now despite the warm welcome from Hades who had taken her chin between his index finger and thumb, tilted her head up to look him in the eyes, and voiced his apologies for all she’d lost. He seems to be able to stare into anyone’s eyes and just _know_ what brought them to his bar, a bar that existed in its own realm. Because Hell may have been a gay bar, but it’s also where lost and damned souls find themselves either post-mortem or in the transition between life and death.

That’s how Hades had explained it to her when he led her inside and showed her around the place. He’s proud of what he’s made of Hell. He’s less proud about how it’s perceived in other worlds, but, as he’d told her, he supposes it might be better that way. The less people know about what Hell is truly like helps keep out those that hate with conviction and never change. Regina’s inclined to agree with him.

At the long stretch of counter space, Regina looks down the bar to her left and then her right. She’s not alone at the bar, but she’s the only one within the span of ten stools in either direction sitting down and her thoughts consumed by grief. She’s not in the partying mood and there are a few others that seem to feel the same way, but those that are wallowing are few and far between. Quite literally. Instead of staring longingly into her half-empty glass of whiskey, Regina turns and takes in her surroundings again. She’d looked around when she’d first come inside, but she’d been so overwhelmed with everything that had happened—still was, honestly—that she hadn’t really absorbed everything Hell has to offer.

There’s a karaoke stage set up in one section of the large bar, but it’s not karaoke night so it’s not being used. The karaoke machine sits without power on the front of one stage and all the sound equipment is on another that has a DJ booth. Currently, there’s a mix of the greatest hits from previous decades, everything from the ‘70s to the early 2000s, booming through the speakers right now and several dozen people are out on the dance floor. When _Stayin’ Alive_ plays, there’s a line of six guys doing their best John Travolta impression and one woman that’s amusingly wearing tight, white jeans that give her a bit of an advantage. Her hips sway way better than Travolta could have ever hoped to achieve and she’s having a blast. She’s a phenomenal dancer, but she’s not out there to show off. She raises her drink in the air as she does what Regina refers to as the typical “disco-gesture” and brings her hand from above her right shoulder down to beside her left thigh. When she lifts her hand again, another woman steps up to her and the John Travolta dance is abandoned for rhythmic grinding. The woman who’d been reenacting _Saturday Night Fever_ then lowered her arm and rested it over the shoulder of the woman who’d came out to join her on the floor.

Regina watches the woman as she rolls her hips into her new dance partner a few times before female Travolta curls her arm around the back of the other woman’s neck and holds her close. Their bodies melt together and their movements become synchronized. It’s all very intimate, but it’s also a connection Regina wishes she could feel, and not just in this place. She hasn’t felt connected like the two women on the dance floor appear to have in a while. Even when she was with Robin, everything had always been a little disjointed between them. They were always on and off, and it wasn’t as if everything was smooth when they were on. Not like the movements between those two women, which were impressively fluid.

Both women look absolutely at peace and neither one has to think about their next move. They simply move together. There’s no talk, no questions, no miscommunication, no drama or imminent and inevitable threat. They’re happy. Regina doesn’t know them, doesn’t know either of their pasts or the women’s history together, but she knows they’re happy. She can see it in their eyes as they smile at each other and occasionally laugh at something only they understand. She wants that. She’s only ever wanted that.

Now she’s in a place that’s supposed to allow her to be happy, to be worry-free as long as she’s there, but she can’t be happy. She doesn’t have Henry. It’s like she’s created Storybrooke all over again, thinking she’ll be the only one with a happy ending and then being the only one without. She also wanted to be free once upon a time. At least she finally has that freedom. In Hell, no one knows about a person’s past unless stories are shared straight from the source. So no one knows her as the Evil Queen, no one _sees_ her as the Evil Queen. No one even knows her, knows just _Regina_. Not here anyway. The only people that know and see Regina are still in Storybrooke. That’s only half of Regina’s troubles. So she’ll drink them away to the best of her abilities and hope that with time all her memories will fade. She’d rather forget her life in Storybrooke if she’s going to be alone in Hell forever.

After her third drink of the night, her head is a little fuzzy and she’s a little less pouty as she watches others “get into the groove.” She’s about to “get up on her feet” because she’s a bit of Madonna fan herself, and by “fan” she means she also has a crush on the woman, but as she slides off the stool she’s unsteady and almost falls on her side. She avoids a nasty, and what probably would have been a painful, bruise on her hip when slender fingers and a firm grip catch her by the arm.

She’s breathless, not only from her near collapse, but by the sudden rush of hope that floods through her like the blood that pumps wild and fast through her veins. The slender but firm feeling of the other person’s grip reminds her of Emma and she thinks that’s exactly who will be at her side when she looks up. But her eyes don’t lock onto a familiar green gaze.

Instead, eyes almost as black as coal stare back at her.

“Hades,” she greets with a gravelly voice. “Don’t you have a bar to run? Why are you here?”

He chuckled. “I make sure all new-comers adjust to this place before I leave them to discover its wonders completely unbothered. Plus, it looked like you could use some help.”

“Are you clairvoyant now,” she asks as she yanks her arm out of his grasp. “You foresaw my fall and came over here to prevent it?”

“Relax, Regina. There’s no need to be bitter, but I understand healing is a process. That’s what I’m here to help with, Doll.”

“I don’t want to heal. I don’t want to be _here_.”

“Why not? There are no responsibilities or pressure or hate. Here you can enjoy yourself and feel free to just be.”

“Well, the first problem is that I’m in a gay bar.”

“You’re just now noticing that?”

Regina rolls her eyes. “I’m not gay.”

“Then you wouldn’t be here.”

“In Hell?”

“In _this_ part of Hell.”

“You mean there’s more than a gay bar here?”

“Hell is very inclusive. People _not_ in heaven need a place to go, don’t they? I just don’t like mixed company.”

“Mixed company,” she dryly says with a raised eyebrow. It’s not a question, but she does want an explanation.

Hades grins like he’s about to share juicy gossip with her and elaborates, “Honey, I can’t tell you how many times my mother would warn me to watch what I reveal in ‘mixed company.’ Not sure all gay kids hear that from their open-minded, well-meaning parents, but there were people in my family and people in my family’s circle that wouldn’t want to hear about my…preferences.

“I keep people like _that_ , the people that don’t accept the LBGT plus community, out of the bar. Ever heard of the phrase ‘there’s a special place in Hell for people like you’?”

Regina nods.

“That’s probably the _only_ thing about this realm that the other worlds got right. Now, there’s also other places for people who are straight but don’t discriminate.”

“Is that the slogan for whatever section of this realm they’re in,” Regina jokes, but she’s not all that amused. Even tipsy she’s still in no mood for conversation, but she _was_ in the mood for Madonna. Unfortunately, the song ended around the time Hades had mentioned how Hell is inclusive.

Hades laughs again and wraps an arm around her shoulders. He drags her away from the dance floor and into another area of the bar she hasn’t seen until now. She frowns as she looks at the purple door ahead of them.

He turns his head and notices her quizzical expression almost immediately. He smiles and answers her unasked question, “Purple is the color worn on spirit day in your world. A lot of the folks here like that concept so I incorporated it in the design.”

“And the door? Where does it lead?”

“Room and board,” Hades answers and guides her closer to the door. “People need a place to live while they’re here, even if it’s only temporary.”

“You’re taking me to my new home,” she surmises. “Is this your way of telling me I’m cut off?”

“It’s my way of giving you the rest of the tour.”

“Mm. A tour of a part of Hell in which I don’t even belong,” she grumbles. “How thoughtful.”

Hades sighs and steps in front of her. He turns his back on the purple door and puts his hands on Regina’s shoulders as he speaks with a hint of amusement, but looks at her seriously. “Even if you _hadn’t_ had that fling with your old pal Maleficent, let me remind you why you’re here. You gave your life for Emma Swan.”

Regina staggers back a few steps and emits a squawking noise, her vocal chords strained as most of her body tenses with the realization that maybe one person in Hell does know her past as well as her present.

“Hey, just like my brother has to know who he’s letting into his dumb afterlife realm in the freaking clouds, I need to know who I’m welcoming into my home,” he explains as though he understands the look on her face.

Regina deflates when she finally exhales. Her shoulders sag and she slumps forward a bit. Hades’ hands on her shoulders are the only things to keep her from tipping over and falling onto her face.

“Now,” Hades adds, “I’m not saying dying for a girl is gay or that having an extensive sexual relationship with another woman _makes_ you gay, but you aren’t one hundred percent straight by any standards either. And you probably know that by now. If you ask me, you’ve always had better chemistry with women anyway. At least after Daniel.”

She looks away at the mention of her long gone fiancé.

“But you don’t want to think about the heavy stuff,” he continues. “You’re here now. _How_ you got here isn’t exactly irrelevant, but you’re here. This is the part of your existence you can finally enjoy, burden and abuse free.”

He moves to stand beside her and then ushers her the rest of the way to the door. When he pushes it open, all she sees is a stairwell. The walls aren’t very lively so the lighting is a little dim. There are two elevators off to her right and straight ahead, past the stairs is another door. It’s also purple, so at least the doors that don’t match the rest of the bar do match each other.

“Where does that door go,” Regina asks.

“You don’t want to be cooped up in a bar and your room all day, do ya? That door leads outside. There’re a few flowerbeds and a small waterfall. It’s beautiful. Who says Hell is a fiery pit or some dank, cavernous hole in the ground?”

“Most people,” Regina casually answers the rhetorical question, but Hades just barrels on.

“This is as much your home as it is mine. Same as it is for everyone else here. I want it to be as warm and welcoming as possible. That’s how life should be. That’s how everyone in every world should be.”

There’s a brief pause between them before Hades says “come on” and leads her up the stairs. He says she’ll want to take the elevator from now on, but that he’s showing her around so they’ll take the stairs to give her a better look at her new surroundings.

She sees that each floor has the same hallway color. It’s a dark blue. Every door is black and has silver lettering above the peephole. The halls are long in every direction and they seem endless, but there are more floors, so they must end somewhere. Nowhere near the stairway, however.

When they get to the fifth floor, Hades pulls away from the landing and ventures into the hallway. Apparently it’s her floor. She follows him and strides through the hallway just a few steps behind him. They pass eleven doors and arrive at room 513. This room is her new beginning. This is how she’s supposed to start all over. Again. This is where she’s supposed to relax and find happiness. But happiness is elusive to her and she’s alone. She’s used to being alone, but she finds no comfort in it. Not when she’s spent so much time fighting against the cruel world of the Enchanted Forest and the monotony of Storybrooke before she adopted Henry.

And then there’s Emma.

Hades flicks his wrist and blue smoke flourishes around his hand. When it clears, he’s moving his hand toward the door with a key clasped between his fingers. There’s a plain white, circular marker with the room number attached to the keyring, and in one fluid twist of his wrist he unlocks her room.

“Regina Mills,” he starts to announce as he pushes the door open and motions inside. He stays rooted in place against the right side of the doorframe in the hallway and waits for her to enter first. She takes slow, hesitant steps over the threshold and he continues, “Welcome home.”

* * *

As she lays on her back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, she thinks about how she got here. She thinks about how far she’s come since the days of young love and wild youth—because Hades just had to bring up Daniel—and knows, remembers, what it felt like to be with him compared to all she’s given up for Emma.

_Past Dark Ones infiltrated the town on a crusade to destroy their most powerful threat: Emma. It was a war waged by a bitter, half-dead ex-boyfriend that Emma had used all her dark magic to save and gave in to the curse completely as a result. It had been another sacrifice, but the difference the second time around was that Hook hadn’t appreciated it the way Regina had._

_It was a lonely, angry pirate that vowed to hurt Emma as much as she hurt him, which wasn’t at all healthy and something he probably would have done even if he wasn’t also one of the many Dark Ones among them. He was ungrateful and unkind, and Regina, for all her grudges and pain and anger, never once would have used Emma’s sacrifice against her._

_But maybe Hook was used to bold actions like what had been done for him, or maybe he didn’t care what price she paid simply because he was in pain and his pain mattered more. Regina didn’t need to know why he decided to turn against someone that had given her heart to such an unworthy suitor. She just needed to know that Hook was all but physically gone from the world and on a rampage with a horde of Dark Ones out to kill Emma._

_She summoned all the magic she had and made her own vow: to protect Emma at any cost._

* * *

Her bed is plush, the thread count feels luxurious as she settles in for the night, and the pillow is just the right amount of firm, but the sheets are cold. She’s alone in a bed far from home and the thought that Henry isn’t down the hall makes her heart ache. She knows he’s safe, and that by protecting Emma she had protected him as well, but it doesn’t hurt any less that she’s away from them.

She tries, tries, fails to avoid thoughts of all the things she’ll miss now that she’s gone. All the birthdays and the inches he’ll grow until he surpasses both her height and Emma’s. She sees his smile every time she closes her eyes, and it’s big and wide and when he’s standing next to Emma while she drapes an arm over his shoulders with a smile of her own, and she sees the undeniable resemblance.

Mourning isn’t just for the living, she realizes as tears bubble up and out before they stain her cheeks. She mourns the loss of those that live on without her, mourns the loss of her family and wishes it hadn’t turned out this way. She would do it all over again, though. She just wishes there had been another way.

And then she remembers the first time in this drawn out tragedy that she'd wished the same thing at another point in time as well. 

_“There has to be another way.”_

_“There isn’t.”_

And later, _“I didn’t have a choice.”_

_“There’s always a choice, Em-ma. You’ve told me that a thousand times.”_

But after all of that, she’s still gone. She’s still in another realm among the departed and trapped. She remembers what brought her there, everything that led up to her inevitable and long time coming damnation, but she’s still fuzzy on whether she’s gone for good or stuck between living and not. Hades isn’t very forthcoming either and he speaks almost cryptically at times, like he’s giving her the tools to process everything for herself even though she’s not sure there’s anything to process other than her journey to Hell.

Her room is dark, and while there’s a window with thin, white curtains nearby, fake moonlight doesn’t do much to liven up the place. There’s nothing lively about Hell, at least not for her. The light of her life is in Storybrooke with his other mother, who Regina has to admit is a small part of that light. After all, if it wasn’t for Emma, she wouldn’t have Henry in the first place. She also wouldn’t have been given yet another chance to redeem herself. And then she would have either been imprisoned or dead much sooner and for less than admirable actions.

She slides under the duvet and sighs after her head hits the pillow. She pulls the sheets up to her chest and curls her fingers into the puffy fabric. She clutches at the duvet like a child with a teddy bear and stares at the ceiling as she forces herself to keep her eyes open, too sad to see a future of what-ifs play out in her mind as she sleeps.

But eventually she quietly cries herself to sleep, and the what-ifs fade in as a flow of dreams like a beautifully tempting and heart-wrenching romantic comedy.

_Henry’s at the table working on a homework assignment that he assures her isn’t due for another few days while breakfast is being prepared in the kitchen. She’s dressed for work, back to her usual mayoral attire, except her clothes are less stiff and authoritative and a little more business casual. Her makeup isn’t completely applied yet, her eyes finished but her lips untouched, and she heads into the other room to check on the food._

_Through the swinging door that leads from the dining room into the kitchen, she finds Emma at the stove in a loose fitting shirt and a short pair of shorts that the hem of the shirt just barely surpasses in length. Her golden blonde hair isn’t brushed and a few strands frizz up while the rest of it cascades down her back in loose waves._

_Regina is breathless, even as she smiles at the sight before her, the light shining through the single window in the kitchen and illuminating that long and silky hair she loves to run her fingers through every chance she gets. She smiles even brighter when Emma turns her head and catches her gaze. Emma smiles back at her and she feels her heart beat faster, her entire body several degrees warmer._

_“Hey,” Emma greets her. “I’m making your favorite. Strawberry pancakes. I pulled out the chocolate syrup for Henry. The kid likes fruit, but you know he has an obsessive love of chocolate.”_

_“Indeed I do,” she agrees, her smile ever present and she doesn’t stop herself from crossing the room and wrapping her arms around the blonde._

_Emma bites her lower lip and giggles as Regina skates her fingers across the younger woman’s stomach. Her fingertips are dangerously close to the waistband of Emma’s shorts over the shirt and it clearly sends shivers down the blonde's spine as she fidgets in Regina's embrace._

_“That tickles,” Emma confesses and Regina chuckles before pressing her lips to that gorgeous blonde hair as she kisses Emma’s neck._

_Emma turns her head again and her smile lessens as the glimmer in her eyes changes from happy to an intense expression of either desire or love, maybe even both. She leans in and Regina closes her eyes as she moves forward to close the small gap between them._

_There’s a faint brush of lips and then—_

_White light flashes and blocks out the rest of the tender moment before it transitions into another vision of a possible happily ever after._

_Henry’s on the soccer team and the chilly weather of the season has her bundled up in several layers in a foldable chair on the sidelines. The bleachers are too cold and hard and Regina refuses to sit on them through an entire game, so she always brings her own chair, which she hadn’t actually thought to get even though she complained about it after the first game Henry played._

_At one of the previous games, she was about to take a spot on the bleachers when Emma had showed up with two foldable chairs for each of them. She set them both up and pulled Regina away from the bleachers before she motioned to the dark blue chair and said, “Your throne, your Majesty.”_

_Now, as she sits in her chair with a winter coat and scarf, she’s alone for the first ten minutes of Henry’s game before Emma shows up with an apology, her own red chair and a large thermos._

_“Brought some hot chocolate,” she says as she sets the thermos down in one of the cup holders in Regina’s chair before she takes out her own chair. Once it's unfolded, she takes a seat and grabs the thermos seconds before she unscrews the cap and pours a serving into it. She hands it over and says, “I didn’t put any cinnamon in because I know you prefer your cocoa without it.”_

_Regina smiles at her and accepts the cap filled to the top with steaming cocoa. “Thank you.”_

_Emma’s consideration for her likes and dislikes, and intolerance to cheese, is such a small thing, but it has a big impact. Regina’s never been cared for the way Emma makes sure everything is okay. The woman strives for perfection and kicks herself when she gets even the tiniest thing wrong, which Regina responds to with a smile and comforting touch as she assures the blonde she’s happy with the outcome._

_She takes a sip from the cup while Emma drinks straight from the thermos and the two of them sit in companionable silence, side by side from where they watch their son run around on the field. The only time they break the silence is when they cheer Henry on or yell at the referee for a bad call. And they’re together through all of it. They’re together as they shout from the sidelines and they’re together when Henry rushes up to them and gives them both a hug to celebrate his win. They’re together after the game when they offer to take the team out for dinner at the pizza parlor down the block and they’re together when Henry does his victory dance with his friends._

_They stand next to each other at one end of the long tables reserved for large parties, like theirs, and watch as a girl approaches Henry. Regina grabs Emma’s arm and squeezes, even digs her nails in, as they stare at the two teens while they talk. Both have wide smiles and slight blushes on their faces and then Henry turns a bright red when the girl surprises him with a chaste but not an entirely quick kiss. She darts off with an even bigger smile and Henry slowly turns back to the team with a blissful but shell-shocked expression._

_“My little prince,” she breathes out and leans into Emma’s side like she might just collapse if the woman wasn’t there to hold her up._

_Henry’s focus shifts from the team to them and he grins before he gives them a thumbs up and is then swarmed by his friends as they start to talk and laugh and go about entertaining themselves._

_Regina doesn’t hear any of it and she barely notices Emma dragging her toward the arcade at the back of the restaurant until two children nearly run into her as they chase each other back into the dining area. She blinks and Emma’s pulling back the thick, black curtain to the photo booth. She doesn’t put any quarters into it first and just guides Regina onto the bench inside it._

_When she’s seated against the back wall of the booth, Emma slides in next to her and closes the curtain before she turns to her with a devious but happy smirk._

_“What are we doing,” Regina asks and Emma continues to smirk as she slides a little closer._

_“Living in a fairy tale. Our prince just got kissed by a princess and now, I’m gonna kiss a queen.”_

_Emma slides closer still and their knees touch before Regina gasps and gives herself over to the moment. They’ve been friends and co-parents for years, but never this. Instead of resisting the sudden change, Regina embraces it and closes her eyes before she feels a hand in her hair and soft lips on hers._

_A burst of multicolored light emanates from them, a stream of True Love magic revealed in the colors of a rainbow, and again her sight is obscured._

She gasps for air as she sits up in bed and exhales one name. “Emma.”

When she looks around, she only sees the blues of her moonlit room in Hell. She’s not home and there’s no happy ending in her future. Because her future is the bar downstairs that’s more like a nightclub tonight and, even if she is attracted to women, she’s not interested in any of the women here.

Her heart aches and she feels her chest constrict with the effort it takes her to push down her tears and try to stay calm. But she’s not calm, and she can’t be calm, because all she sees when she tries to rest is everything that could have been and now never will be.


	2. Chapter 2

Her first thought is if Regina felt as gutted and helpless as she does right now, when it had been Emma who was gone instead. The blonde puts a hand on her stomach, feeling as though her heart is buried low and deep within it as she worries and fights off tears that threaten to fall. Her eyes are wet and her mind races with all the possibilities of what she can do. She doesn’t know how to help, doesn’t know where else to go but to her own house with the brunette's limp body. The older woman is heavy in her arms as her dead weight is carefully cradled by the blonde. 

Emma vaguely registers her parents' voices as they call out to her, but she has tunnel vision in that moment and only sees Regina. Regina who is lifeless and bloody and becoming colder and colder by the minute. She doesn’t even hear what her parents are trying to say before she poofs away with the brunette and retreats to the house she acquired when they came back from Camelot. 

She’s never believed in a higher power. Maybe karma is a thing, but she’s never once shared the beliefs of any of her religious families throughout her time in the foster system, and there were a few. She can’t fathom an all-powerful being that would allow famine and war and force others to suffer in ways that do so much more than build character and instead drive some to madness and death. She can’t imagine someone who created the world they live in, one supposedly without magic, would want to watch as it made people victims and others monsters. But Regina needs magic or a miracle, or someone much brighter and more qualified than her to fix what's been done. 

It’s like living Isaac's twisted alternate reality all over again, except there won’t be wedding bells or a loophole to reverse all that’s been done in this reality. Because it isn’t an alternate version of anything. It didn’t happen in a book or by way of magic. It actually happened. It’s really real and still happening and it can’t be undone. Or at least Emma doesn’t know how it can be undone, but she certainly hopes there’s a way to go back. She hopes there’s a way to save her. She can’t lose Regina. She can’t lose another person. She thought she couldn’t lose Hook, especially during everything in Camelot, but she'd been wrong about that, about him, about everything. 

“If I could go back, if I could do it all over again,” Emma starts to say when she lays Regina down on a plush, Queen size bed. “I should have let him die.”

She imagines Regina agreeing with her and telling her it was about time she figured that out for herself. She imagines Regina rolling her eyes and making snide comments, joking about Emma’s idiocy. She remembers admitting to Regina that no one had been around in Camelot to tell her when she was being stupid and imagines Regina adding on to her response. She imagines Regina saying Emma never learns and she’ll always be an idiot. She imagines Regina saying, “You’re being stupid now.”

And now…

“It’s too late,” Emma whispers with watery eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Her voice wavers as it comes out raspy and thick with emotion she’s never outwardly expressed toward the brunette in front of her. 

“It’s not,” she hears from the doorway and immediately spins around to see a familiar, but not quite welcome face. 

“How did you get in here,” Emma asks and moves to stand protectively in front of Regina. “Why are you here?”

“I came back for Cruella,” Ursula answers. “This place was a ghost town when I arrived, so I went looking for anyone at that point. I ran into Maleficent and she told me Cruella’s dead and that you killed her.”

Ursula steps forward, slow and deliberate as if she plans to creep toward Emma and then attack at the last second. Emma turns her entire body to face Ursula and uses herself as a shield to keep the other woman away from Regina. She doubts Ursula wants anything to do with the unconscious woman on the bed, especially when Emma’s the one responsible for taking away the person Ursula apparently wants for some reason, but Regina’s still slowly bleeding out and turning pale and she’s so, so weak. She can’t defend herself and Emma might be making it obvious that hurting Regina would hurt her. It’s a revenge tactic most villains in Storybrooke would and already have used as a means to revel in their victory while they watch their enemies squirm and cry and live in misery. She doesn’t doubt Ursula wouldn’t do just that to avenge her friend’s death. She doesn’t doubt anyone’s ability to do just that. Not anymore. Not when she’s just learned, and is still learning, what happens when she doubts and underestimates those around her she believes have changed. 

“Relax, Savior,” Ursula says as she rolls her eyes. “I’m not here to kill you or to hurt _anyone_. I don’t need to get mad. I need to bring her back.”

Emma frowns. “Bring her back? What do you mean? You mean…bring Cruella back? From the dead?”

Ursula flashes a brief smile and breathes out a chuckle. She nods and explains, “Just before your band of heroes came back from…wherever you were, I found a way. I know where Cruella is. And, if what I understand is true, Regina’s probably there with her.”

Emma blinks a few times, shocked and uncertain, but hopeful. Always hopeful. And now she’s willing to do whatever's needed for Regina. She looks over her shoulder at the brunette's prone and almost completely unmoving form, her chest only barely heaving with labored breaths to indicate that Regina’s alive. She watches the delayed rise and fall of the other woman’s chest as the effort it takes only occurs every six seconds instead of three. She’s never been sure of her role as the Savior or as a hero, or even as Snow White and Prince Charming's daughter. She’s never even been sure of her role as Henry’s mother—his other mother or birth mother, neither had felt right to her until recently—but she’s sure of one thing in that moment: Regina needs her and she won’t give up until Regina’s home.

“What do I have to do?”

* * *

Snow and Charming catch up with her while she's concentrating, her hands poised over Regina's body as she centers herself and remembers how she'd cast her first protection spell. She had been with Regina then and it wasn't solely dependent on her magic to enforce the transparent barrier that faded out of sight until smashed into by the wrong person. Regina had guided her through it and used some of her own magic to put the wall up around Snow's hospital room to protect both her and the soon-to-be born baby Neal from Zelena. A preservation spell is different from a protection spell, but the emotion is the same and there's still a wall around whomever Emma's using the spell on, so she believes she'll be able to use the idea of what goes into a protection spell in order to preserve Regina's body.

The brunette's vitals are fading fast and her breathing went from slow and labored to a worrying choking that happens far too often and too harshly for Emma's comfort. She only has her belief that protection and preservation are almost—but as she's well-aware not quite—synonymous. It has to work. It's the only way she can be successful at what she's about to do. 

Snow and Charming don't see that, however. They don't understand what she's doing or why, so when they see her standing at Regina's bedside with Ursula patiently waiting off to the side, they panic.

"Honey, what are you doing," Snow asks, breathless and with wide eyes. She looks back and forth between Emma and Ursula and her panic seems to intensify, which Emma doesn't blame her for because she gets it.

"Saving her," Emma replies as she keeps her eyes on her hands and Regina and nowhere else. She feels her magic rise to the surface and she doesn't have wait much longer before she feels herself pull it out of herself. She directs the stream of light at Regina and waves her hands over the woman's body from head to toe. She doesn't stop until she's watched and felt the spell take hold.

When she drops her hands to her sides, she exhales and closes her eyes as she takes a moment to accept that she did it. Once her achievement sinks in, she turns to her parents with a set, determined look on her face. She clenches her fists at her sides as she prepares to tell them her plan, tell them what Ursula's figured out and what she's willing to do with the former villain for the people that are dear to them. 

"How are you gonna do that," David asks. "Emma, she's...she's not gonna make it."

"I just made sure she would," Emma says and motions toward Regina's faintly glowing body. "A preservation spell, like the one she used on Daniel and the one she used on Marian, or I guess Zelena."

Both of them appear shocked and then look between her and Regina a few times before Snow asks, "What now?"

"I'm going to bring her back."

"And...you need _Ursula_ for that?"

"Yeah, I do."

"You can't be serious," David says and steps forward as if to physically restrain her from going through with her plan. "You're trusting a _villain_ to help you with this?"

"She's not a villain," Emma argues. "Not anymore. She has someone to fight for and someone to lose if she fails, and I trust that."

"And how exactly do you plan to get her back," Snow asks and steps forward as well to stand closer to David and comes out to be at his side rather than behind him.

Emma looks to Ursula who looks between the blonde and her parents before she comes to stand at Emma's side and uncrosses her arms. She drops them to her sides as she carefully explains her plan to Snow and David, explains it like she knows that it'll hurt them to know just what Emma will have to do to get Regina back.

"Regina...might be in Hell."

Snow and David both reel back with wide eyes and slack jaws.

"Since she's still breathing," Ursula continues and motions to Regina on the bed, "it's possible that she'll be able to come back from there, at least...much easier than someone who's been pushed off a cliff."

Snow sputters and shakes her head as she pieces everything together. "You're going there for Cruella?"

Ursula glares at Snow before she speaks again. "She might be far less redeemed than me, but she's still a good friend of mine. We've been through a lot together and...I guess I'm not ready for all of this to be over. I don't know if you can understand what that feels like since nothing's as perfect and clear-cut as your love story, but that doesn't make what anyone else feels any less real."

"No, no, of course. That's not... I'm sorry. That's not what I meant by that. I just...I didn't know,” Snow explains before she turns her focus to Emma. "Is...is that why you're doing this?"

For a second, Emma panics. She's not sure what to say or what it all means that she's willing to quite literally go through Hell and back to save Regina from a fate she doesn't think the other woman deserves. No matter what she's thinking or how she honestly feels about the situation down to her core, what she says is, "I owe it to her and Henry to do everything I can to fix this. It's my fault she's even fighting for her life right now. I won't let her die because I was too stupid to just...let go."

Snow and David look at each other then and everything's silent as a long moment passes between the four of them. After some sort of silent communication, they look back at her and attempt to smile, but the expression is fleeting and filled with sadness and worry.

"If this is what you want to do," Snow starts to say, "we'll support you."

David closes some of the distance between them before he sets a hand on her shoulder and squeezes. "We love you, kiddo. Be careful, okay?"

Emma smiles up at him and nods after a few seconds. She's close to tears again with the weight of her parents having her back while she risks her own life to further and _better_ preserve Regina's.

"Look after Henry," Emma asks with so much hope in her voice and her wet green eyes. Her lashes are just as wet and it's clear she's already cried once tonight. She doesn’t want to do it again, but she's not sure she'll be able to get back and forth between Storybrooke and Hell alive before she's able to pull Regina out of there. She's not sure if she'll make it back once let alone a few times and she's not sure how long it might take to even find Regina. She might not see Henry again once she leaves, and this goodbye is going to be one of the hardest, but she knows in her heart that she's the one that should pay this price. It's not Regina's price, not her fault, not her time. She's the one that's supposed to be here and as soon as Emma can get to her, she will be. She has to be.

"Ready?" Ursula asks as she places a hand on her shoulder blade. It's an odd gesture coming from a woman that should hate her for being the reason Cruella's in Hell right now, but Emma's actually a little grateful that she won’t be doing this big heroic thing alone.

"Yeah, uh, just let me stop by and see Henry first?"

Ursula nods her agreement with immense understanding on her face. For a woman without any kids, Ursula certainly seems to get Emma's urgent need to see Henry. She'll ask about it later, maybe during the descent to Hell when they have more time to just talk, but for the time being she hugs her parents and lets them hold her tight for about a minute too long before she rushes off to find Henry. Ursula follows her and sticks with her almost every step of the way, except for when she meets up with Henry at the mansion. Then she just waits outside, doesn't even let Henry see her so it's just him and Emma, and Emma thanks her even before she steps inside.

"Henry," she calls out and hears it echo throughout the house.

He jogs out onto the landing at the top of the stairs and looks down at her with wild eyes and messy hair. His hands grip the railing so tightly that even Emma can see how white his knuckles are from where she stands in the foyer below.

"Where is she," he frantically asks. "What happened?"

Emma's heart breaks for him and she's immediately reminded how much she's screwed up. "Henry," she quietly, cautiously starts to say. She's not sure what to tell him or where she should sit him down, but she knows she should go to him, so she does.

As soon as she heads up the stairs, Henry lets go of the railing and begins to back away toward the bedrooms. "No," he pleads in the softest voice Emma's ever heard him use while he shakes his head again and again. "No. No, it's not- This isn't happening. She's not- This can't be how the story ends!"

New tears fall and her lips quiver as she tries to keep it together. She's allowed to cry with him, she knows, but she needs to be strong. She at least needs to stay composed long enough to actually tell him what happened and what she's going to do, that she's going to fix it.

She reaches out to touch his face, but he shouts "no" again before he tears off toward one of the rooms. The door is already wide open when he disappears inside it and he slams it shut behind him. She shakily inhales as she tries to push down more tears and anguished little cries and presses a hand to her stomach before she moves forward and follows him into the room. As soon as she opens the door, she realizes that it's without a doubt _not_ his bedroom. The color scheme is monochromatic and suggests that it's most likely a guest bedroom, but Emma knows better. She sees little hints all around the room that indicate as plain as the colors and design might be, it's definitely not for guests. She also knows her son. She knows he wouldn't just run into a random room in the house, which is why he's there in Regina's room.

He lays on the bed with his face buried in one of her pillows and wraps his arms around it as he clings to it for dear life. His shoes are still on and he's on top of the covers. She's sure Regina would never let that slide if she was there to witness it, but she knows the only reason Henry's so careless and distraught is _because_ she's not there.

"Henry," she quietly says again and slowly approaches the bed. She cautiously holds out a hand before she touches his shoulder with it and gently nudges him in the hopes that he'll look at her when she explains. Thankfully he does, but he has tears in his eyes and on his face and she almost can't bear the sight. She has to tell him though, no matter how painful. "Regina's...She's... It's complicated."

"No, it's not. Just tell me what happened," he demands with a rough and wet voice.

Emma sighs and looks down at the floor before she sits down on the edge of the bed. "She's...not dead, but she's not okay. It's possible she's...in another world- realm. Whatever."

He blinks a few times, his brow furrowed and his eyes slightly widened as he listens and takes in what she tells him.

"I'm gonna go get her," she finally tells him. "I don't...I don't know if she's there for sure, but there's a chance that she is, so...I'm gonna take that chance."

His confusion dissipates immediately as its replaced with determination and a small half-smile. "I'm coming with you," he insists and sits up fully before he slides past her to a free space on the edge of the bed and stands.

"No," Emma firmly says and watches as the hope in his eyes fades and he frowns at her. "I'm taking a chance to get Regina back, but I'm not risking you. And Regina wouldn't either. You know that."

"But—"

"No buts," she cuts him off and makes sure he knows there's no point in arguing with her because she won't budge. She softly and more considerately adds, "I don't know if I'll be able to come back, Henry. Where she is...it's...there could be some complications, if she's even there."

Henry's eyebrows shoot up to the top of his head. "You mean you could die?"

Emma closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before she confesses, "Yes."

He vigorously shakes his head and adamantly says, "No. No, I won't let you go. You _can't_ go. I can't lose you."

"It might not be as simple as losing me," she says as she feels her emotions swell inside her again and try to surface. "If I don't try to bring her back, Henry...you'll lose her."

"But...I can't lose both of you," he says.

"I know. I know, Henry, but this is all my fault. I can't let anything happen to her when I'm the reason she's even hurt."

"No," he sternly says and his eyes steel over with a different kind of determination she doesn't think she's ever seen in him. He looks just like Regina in that moment. "It's not your fault. It's his. Don't let him convince you that this is on you because you didn't make decisions for him. He's always known right from wrong, no matter what excuses he thinks he has and uses, and he's still made all the wrong choices. _He_ did this. Not you. _He's_ the one that should be suffering right now."

 _So much_ like Regina, she thinks.

She wants to reason with him. She wants to find a way to calm him down so he doesn't go off on some rampage like Regina would, and she's not sure what exactly he'll do. But she knows what Regina would do if she was faced with the woman and not their smart, kind son and it’s a scary thought. Trying to reason with him, though, isn't easy. No words are forthcoming, and she knows that's because Henry's right.

"Where is he," Henry asks. "Did you deal with him or is still out there while I'm being forced to choose between my moms?"

Emma winces. She hadn't realized what an impossible situation Henry would be in if she gave up her life just to save Regina's. She shouldn't have told him she could die. If he didn't know going after Regina could end her life, he might have been a little more receptive to the idea. She would kick herself for being stupid, but she knew why she'd told him. He was a kid and didn't always have to hear the truth, but after all that's happened between him and Regina and him and her in the last few years, she owed it to him to give him honesty, always. The truth could often be harsh and ugly, but Henry's only ever asked Regina and her not to lie to him. Even lying by omission went against what he wanted because white lies and little half-truths weren't good enough, especially when he has a bit of a lie detector superpower in him like she does.

"He's not your problem," she tells him.

"Maybe not, but someone's got to stop this. If you go to get Mom then no one here will end this."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. It's got to be you, Emma. You're the only one that stands a chance at stopping him. You're still the Dark One, or _a_ Dark One. You're the only match for him right now. You get rid of him and maybe you won't have to die to save Mom."

"I don't know how much time I have," she sadly admits. "I can't- I can't lose her either."

Henry's eyes pop wide open, no longer narrowed with anger or vengeance and instead shocked to hear a more intense truth than her risking her life to go to another realm to save Regina.

Her mouth falls open and she stammers out a few unintelligent sounds.

"You can't," Henry asks.

She furrows her brow as she tries to think of a response, think of a way to explain what exactly she means by her word choice. What she comes up with is, "She's family. I can't lose my family."

Things seem to wind back down then. Henry accepts her answer and she knows that what she said isn't a lie at all even though it feels like it's only part of the reason she's willing to give up everything—again—for this woman. Well, maybe it more than _feels_ like it's only part of the reason. Maybe she also _knows_ it's only part of the reason, but, if she does know that for a fact, she's still definitely not ready to admit it yet.

"Listen to me," Emma continues, "he's a problem and I want to take care of it, but I think saving Regina is more pressing right now. I can't do both. I can't stop him and save her and I don't want to focus all my efforts on him when I _know_ they should be spent trying to get her back. Do you understand?"

He seems to think about it and though he doesn't look happy about his choices, he still nods and agrees that she should go to Regina. "Don't die," he begs before he pulls her into a tight hug. "And make sure you _both_ come back."

"I'll do what I can," she breathlessly tells him as another tear escapes her and she squeezes him like it’s the last hug they'll ever have, like it's the last time she'll ever see him. She's not sure what will happen, but she doesn't want to spend the rest of eternity in Hell regretting anything about how she leaves Henry that night. She pours everything into that goodbye and hopes and hopes and hopes it's only a goodnight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of Hook in this chapter. He's mentioned a little bit here and there throughout the fic and sometimes might be more crude and/or triggering than his small appearances in other chapters.

The club scene from the previous night is gone and all the stages are unlit. There are few people around and only one bartender on duty instead of three, like there had been when the music was loud and the party was at its height. She's not entirely surprised, but she does feel even more alone than she had when she watched everyone else enjoy themselves on the dance floor. The place is as dead as the people that stay there, but at least they know how to make the most of their new lives after death. She feels hollow and more like a ghost than a guest, someone with unfinished business. It wasn't as if she hadn't had a choice, though. She'd done what was needed. For her family.

She deserves this. She's escaped her fate and death for far too long and this is how it should be, this is where she belongs. It's the last thought she has before she's approached by the bartender and as she's served her drink of choice, she doesn't have time to dwell on the past or beat herself up for things she can't and wouldn't change. Another woman joins her at the bar, hardly notices her as the petite blonde slides onto a stool and lights up.

Regina turns her head and sees the first familiar face in Hell. Black and white hair, dark red lips, and a filtered cigarette between her index and middle finger in her right hand. And apparently she got to keep the fur coat she died in.

"Cruella," she dryly says the other woman's name and garners the intended attention.

Cruella turns to her before she blows out a stream of smoke then picks under her thumb nail with the nail of her middle finger on the hand holding the cigarette. "I'll be damned. The reformed Evil Queen is finally stuck in Hell with the rest of us. How long's it been, Regina? A few weeks, some months? Guess you aren't as special as you thought you were, or at least you're not much better than me if this is where you ended up."

"I've done plenty of things to get here, I know, but I'm not that person anymore. I haven't been for a few years now. It doesn't tip the scales, but I've changed. Can you say the same? Because the fact that I know you can't just proves that in some way, I _am_ better than you."

Cruella rolls her eyes. "Tell yourself whatever you need to if it helps you sleep, dahling, but we're both here no matter how much we have or haven't changed. So it doesn't really matter if you're better because you've changed. Look where it's gotten you."

Regina glares at her before she finally takes the first sip of her drink. The taste is strong and bitter and the alcohol burns her throat. She welcomes the pain and only winces slightly as a result.

"You've never really liked me," Cruella states. "Why is that? You didn't seem to have a problem with Ursula. Or _Mal_ for that matter."

The other woman enunciates Maleficent's name with a raised eyebrow and knowing look in her eyes while her lips curl into a smirk.

"Ursula never threatened my son's life," Regina replies with a bit of a snarl.

"Oh, dahling, you didn't like me long before that and we both know it. Besides, you know now that I _threatened_ your boy, but I couldn't actually harm him. Yet your precious Savior had no trouble throwing me off a cliff. You think she'll ever join us down here?"

"No," she says without doubt or hesitation. She believes it with every ounce of her being that Emma will never end up in Hell. She's not bad, and though the blonde has made a few mistakes in her life, that doesn't guarantee her a trip to the Underworld. It shouldn't. And Regina will rage against anyone that insists otherwise, either by bringing her to Hell or saying it's where she's headed. There's not much she can do about it now, but she gave up Henry and life itself to give Emma everything she should have always had: family, freedom, happiness.

"How can you be so sure," Cruella asks with a hint of haughtiness.

"She has people that will do everything they can to keep that from happening, and she's stronger than you might give her credit for."

"Giving in to whatever drove her to use magic on me says she's _not_ as strong as _you_ think she is, dahling.”

"What did you expect her to do," Regina suddenly snaps. "You held a gun to our son's head on the edge of a cliff and _dared her_ to do it. I would have done the same if I'd been in her place."

"But that's the thing, isn't it," Cruella says. "She's not you. She's not supposed to be like you. Like us. She might be tempted to do bad things, but she's not supposed to actually do them. But she did."

"She's not perfect. She's not innocent," she argues. "But she's not like us. No matter what she's done or might do next, she's not anything like you or me."

Cruella grins like she just uncovered a secret, one that she thinks no one else knows she's figured out. It makes Regina want to choke the woman. "Why _are_ you here, Regina?"

"I died. Or nearly died. I'm not actually sure which yet," she confesses with a furrowed brow.

"No, I mean _here_. I assume Hades has given you the grand tour and explained everything about this place works. He gave me the same speech. So I know there's a reason you're here and not in some other part of this realm."

"I...I made a decision," she vaguely responds.

"Clearly," Cruella comments with a suggestive and husky tone as her eyes wander up and down the brunette's body. "I actually feel a little satisfied to know that I was right. You are in love with her."

Regina's eyes widened and she shook her head like those words were a curse. "No. I don't- That's just not true."

"Oh, come on. You have to admit it. You're here because you love your good girl Savior. And you’ve cheated death before, haven't you? So my guess is the decision you made was to make some bold and heroic sacrifice for her. Am I right, dahling?"

She doesn't have a reply. She could deny what they both apparently know to be the truth: she'd made a bold and heroic sacrifice for Emma. What that means is something Regina's on the cusp of admitting to herself, but it's not as simple as what Cruella seems to think.

Cruella smirks and takes a drag from her cigarette. She blows the smoke out of the side of her mouth toward the area behind the bar, which the bartender isn’t occupying, when she exhales.

“I had a feeling you wanted her. Long hair you could play with, incredible body, and she’s the daughter of your enemy. That sounds absolutely evil. But that’s not what it’s about, is it,” Cruella say it like a statement, not a question. “Not if you love her.”

“What are _you_ doing here,” Regina angrily asks. “If you got the same speech I did when you showed up here then I think you’re the one that’s hiding something.”

“Oh, I’m not hiding anything,” Cruella replies. “You want to know how I came to this section of Hell? Simple. I like women as much as I like men. Except there is one special woman I like more than anyone else. But she left, so I’m sure she doesn’t feel the same. I doubt she even knows or cares what happened to me, thanks to your little blonde.”

Herr eyes light up with recognition and she says, “Ursula.”

Cruella nods. “I told you, I have nothing to hide.”

“When did you ever have time to-” she stops herself and doesn’t finish asking the question, but Cruella gives her an answer anyway.

“We had a few opportunities to rekindle the old flame. And after being paired up by Rumple the first time, we grew close. Once we got sucked into the portal that dragged us to that awful land without magic, we started to have a difference in opinion and drifted apart.”

“So you _were_ together? Before all this, I mean.”

Cruella chuckles and replies, “Many times. My only regret is that I didn’t spend more time with her. I suppose that might have happened if I’d been honest with her. I never took the time to tell her how I feel…but you know all about that, too.”

“I… That’s none of your business,” she replies, because it’s not. She doesn’t owe Cruella anything. The woman died a villain and always would be, as far as Regina’s concerned. She had a chance in Storybrooke to prove the Charmings wrong about her being in town for the wrong reasons and she’d thrown it away. She’d threatened Henry’s life and lost her own for it. But…Cruella’s the only one in Hell she’s managed to talk to since her arrival, which wasn’t too long ago. Still, she’s been lonely and, by the looks of it, Cruella hasn’t made any friends here either. Maybe talking to her wasn’t so bad, but she definitely doesn’t have to divulge every secret, every emotion, every thought she’s had—and still has—of Emma Swan.

“It’s alright, dahling. You don’t have to tell me a thing. I already know,” Cruella says with a smirk before she finishes off her drink and sets the glass on the counter. “Well, I’m off. I’m close to getting into one of the other parts of this realm. You’re free to join me.”

Regina thinks about it. She opens her mouth and inhales as she gears up to respond, but she can’t agree to wander off with Cruella. She’s still not ready to leave the not quite comfort of her room and the bar that has a constant flow of drinks she just can’t pass up.

She doesn’t have to say a single word. Cruella seems to understand that immediately.

“I get it. You’re still wallowing. I’ve been here a while, so I’m used to this place. I can’t stand still anymore when there’s a whole world to discover. I’ve got no one here to occupy my time and no one’s coming to my rescue, if that’s even possible. But you…you still have plenty to live for and yet, you’re stuck here. So, keep drinking. Don’t let me stop you. I’ll be back so we’ll see each other again. Count on it.”

Cruella grins as she leaves as though she’s just made a threat and a promise with that one statement, and maybe it is both a threat and a promise. She’s not sure she wants to see Cruella again, but it’s not as though the woman has done anything to hurt her, yet. They only talked. And Regina’s already dead, or close to dead anyway. It’s not like there’s anything Cruella can do to harm her.

She sighs and tries not to think about her situation or her conversation with Cruella. Instead, she flags the bartender down and orders another drink.

* * *

She stands with Ursula in front of a pond on a rainy morning, just as the sun is about to crest over the horizon. It’s peaceful where they are, and picturesque. If she wasn’t scared about what she’s about to do or seriously concerned about Regina, she would have enjoyed the sight. But she is nervous and she’s terrified about a lot of things, like being too late to save the other woman and failing so immensely that she loses her own life in the process.

That thought brings her back to the present and she’s reminded that her parents are behind her. They’re standing a safe distance away, but they’re there to watch her walk straight into Hell. It’s not lost on anyone there, probably not even Ursula, that they could very well be watching her die. From what little Ursula has been able to tell her about getting into Hell, she knows they won’t see her cough up blood or struggle and writhe around or cry out in pain, but if she doesn’t make it back, then that moment is the last time they’ll ever see her.

So the sunrise is more bitter than it is sweet. It could be the last one she ever sees and if she really wants to be a help to Regina, she needs to accept that possibility and move on.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for just a moment. She tilts her head back and lets the breeze pass over her as she pays attention to the subtle way the leaves of the nearby trees sway in the wind and the birds chirp while they slowly start to wake up, like the rest of the town probably is. When she opens her eye, she immediately notices her vision is blurry just before tears slip down her cheeks.

She looks at Ursula who turns to her within seconds and looks empathetic, like she understands exactly how she feels. And maybe she does because the last Emma had head of her, she’d taken a trip back to the Sea Kingdom with her father to live happily ever after. So either something has happened to her father, or she’s potentially leaving him behind for the chance at regaining part of her happy ending that she’s been missing since she fled Storybrooke.

Emma sharply exhales and turns around to face her parents. They both look incredibly sad and it makes her heart ache. She doesn’t want this to be goodbye, but she knows, _knows_ , that if she doesn’t try to get Regina back, she’ll never be happy. She has her parents and her son, but it’s not her _whole_ family and without _everyone_ there, it’s hard to feel content and complete in life. She keeps telling herself she has to do this. It’s too important not to risk absolutely everything.

She takes another breath and steps toward her parents. She looks from Snow to David, and then they just break down and swoop forward. She barely has time to blink and breathe before they encase her in a suffocating group hug. She would normally complain, but she knows they feel the same way about this as she does about leaving Henry, who’s currently with Granny and baby Neal at the apartment, and thankfully doesn’t have to watch her do this, and that’s what makes her return the hug full force. She doesn’t think about how hard they have her pressed to them or about how she holds one of her feet in mid-air just to avoid stepping on one of theirs. She doesn’t think anything negative and just relaxes in their arms for several long seconds before they pull apart.

She’s about to rejoin Ursula at the edge of the pond, but it seems she’s spent far too much time saying farewell because suddenly she hears a man she’d rather not think about or deal with, especially not right now. She sighs and turns to Robin as he jogs out from between some trees and heads toward them.

“I just heard,” he says when he reaches them. “About Regina. Is she…is she really _dead_?”

“No, she’s not dead,” Emma snaps at him.

Robin deflates with notable relief and even flashes a quick smile like that’s all he needs to hear. “Not dead” is good enough for him despite the fact that he doesn’t know any details about what happened.

“But she will be if I don’t do something,” Emma adds. “Now.”

“What?” The relief is gone in an instant and he looks, well, pathetic. But that’s just Emma’s opinion and she’s not at all objective. “What do you mean? What happened?”

“She saved Emma,” Snow says. “She saved all of us.”

“Wh- How? When?”

“I don’t have time to explain,” Emma growls. “I have to get her back.”

“Get her back? You can- Is there a way to save her,” Robin asks with desperation.

“There won’t be if you keep me here any longer,” she answers.

“Well, however I can be of assistance, I will. I want to help. Please. What can I do?”

“You can get out of my way,” Emma says as she turns away from him and goes to stand beside Ursula again. Unfortunately, he follows her.

“She’s my soulmate and we’re together. I should do something. If there’s a way to save her, I should be a part of it.”

She huffs and whips around to face him before she explains, “No offense, but Regina needs someone who puts her first except for Henry, and Roland in your case.”

“I do!”

“Really? Because that’s not how I see it. You only went back to her when it was convenient for you. And…where _is_ Roland anyway? I haven’t seen him in a while. I think you need to get your priorities straight.”

He doesn’t look happy with what she’s said, even though she’s right and he probably knows that, too. He just doesn’t want to admit it.

“And what makes _you_ qualified to go after her,” he asks. “You’re a _Dark One_.”

“I’m her _family_.” She turns away from him again and moves closer to Ursula. “Let’s go.”

Ursula pulls a dagger out from inside her jacket and then rolls up her sleeve. She looks at Emma and silently asks if the blonde’s ready to continue and Emma nods in response. Almost as soon as she nods, Ursula proceeds to slice into her forearm and holds her cut arm over the water. She lets the blood on the dagger drip into the pond as well before she hands the dagger to Emma.

It’s not the Dark One dagger, which would have been a better weapon for Emma to use on herself for the purpose of the ritual, but she doesn’t have her own dagger and instead has to use what she’s got and hope for the best.

This time she doesn’t hesitate. She wipes the remaining blood off the dagger on her jeans before she rolls up her sleeve. She takes a deep breath and then runs the dagger along her arm. She watches it open her skin and follows the blood as it flows down her pale skin and into newly murky water. The water then clouds over with gray and it reminds Emma of how coffee looks when adding milk to it before stirring.

She kneels down in the damp grass while raindrops fall on and around her, making small ripples in the water as it drizzles outside as the spell starts to take form.

She plunges the dagger into the ground and closes her eyes as she imagines a swirling vortex like all the portals she’s ever traveled through have looked like. When she has the image in mind, she twists the dagger in the ground and the water starts to bubble up as a fog creeps across it from both sides of the pond.

A hooded figure on a gnarled gondola appears as the vessel glides across the water and then turns in their direction. The figure passes a tree that’s grown on the patch of land that long ago cropped up near the center of the pond and as the rear of the gondola moves ahead of the tree and closer to them, the figure dips what appears to be a walking stick into the water. The figure holds the end of it in the water for a good stretch of the pond as though the stick is an ore, but the stick remains still and upright as the stick and gondola move through the pond.

Then Emma realizes that the stick is leaving a trail of disrupted water behind that parts and then meets again before it sinks and creates a small whirlpool effect. By the time the hooded figure pulls the stick out of the water, the pond is the swirling vortex Emma imagined. It’s similar to the way they’d gone to Neverland, except this time she’s a little lightheaded due to her arm, which continues to bleed even as the gondola reaches the water’s edge and the figure holds out a hand for them to take.

Emma looks from the outstretched hand to the hooded figure whose face is shrouded in darkness. She then looks back at her parents, pretends Robin isn’t still standing there, and gives them the last bit of advice she hopes will protect them while she’s gone.

“Get Maleficent and Lily to help you if Hook ever shows himself again. Stay close. Be prepared and stand together like an army.” Her parents nod before she adds, “If you see him, don’t think. Just end this. Kill him.”

She faces Ursula again just in time to see the woman take the hooded figure’s hand and climb onboard the gondola. Once she’s inside, the figure offers her a hand again and she takes it this time. With both herself and Ursula on the gondola, the figure uses the stick to push away from the edge and back out in the pond. They slowly move toward the vortex in the water and she stares at her parents for as long as she can, which is until she feels the back of the gondola dip into the vortex. When she feels herself start to fall backward into the portal, her eyes widen and she looks to Ursula. She notices she isn’t the only one afraid of what will greet them at the other side of the portal, and together they tumble down in the dark water until all they can hear is the swishing sound it makes as it swallows them and closes.


	4. Chapter 4

_He has her cornered. She’s alone with him and he grins at her with a devilish twinkle in his eyes as though he’s attracted the lost little lamb to slaughter. She tells herself to stay collected, to avoid crying in front of him. Too many times has he seen her vulnerable, and every time he hadn’t deserved the privilege._

_His plan for the past couple years was to break down her walls and get inside, and she’d let him. He’d won and crawled under her skin like a parasite, fed off her loneliness and desperation until she was weak and his and no longer her own person. And then she’d become so dependent on having him in her life that she couldn’t lose him. She wouldn’t let him die. She wouldn’t watch another person she’d let get close to her leave her._

_She’d saved him in Camelot, but his life came at too high a price. They’d all tried to tell her. Regina had been the first to speak up. She should have listened, but it was like holding Neal in her arms as she watched him take his final breaths all over again. It’s like she was cursed at birth to lose every lover she’s ever had, destined to be forever alone. Because Saviors are meant to save, not love and be loved._

_He’s a Dark One, just like her. Well, not exactly like her. She chose her fate, but she forced it on him. And he hates her for it. He’s targeting her, attacking everyone she cares about and threatening to kill them all for ultimate power. He wants revenge against Rumpel first and foremost, but as soon as his “crocodile” is dead, he’ll take what every previous Dark One, except Emma, has wanted: complete control._

_But her betrayal seems to sting more since it’s fresh, because he’s not going after Rumpelstiltskin. He’s standing in front of her on the street in front of the clock tower and looks maniacal and ready to pounce with his fist tightened._

_Emma looks down as his knuckles turn white and his arm muscles tense. She hears him chuckle, but watches his hand as he unclenches his fist. As soon as his grip is loose enough, smoke appears in the shape of a sword and when it clears she sees Excalibur is in his hand._

_Her eyes widen as air escapes her lungs and she doesn’t feel it return. She knows in that moment when she’s there, why he’s sickeningly happy to have her trapped and alone._

_“If you don’t want to join me, love,” he starts to say, “then it’s time we part ways.”_

_She takes a step back and slowly starts to raise her hands both defensively and in surrender._

_“Please, Hook,” she breathlessly begs. “Think about this.”_

_“Oh, I have.”_

_She shakes her head and continues to try reaching out to him, speaking to the man he once was and not the monster he is, and probably has been for a while. “What about Henry? He’s already lost a father. He doesn’t need to lose a mother, too.”_

_“You know, I’m fairly sure you’ve said that before,” he mentions as he raises the sword and touches the sharp tip with a finger. “But…what do I care about the boy? He’s not mine. He’s yours. He’s your responsibility and you’ve failed him.”_

_“This isn’t you, Hook. You did care about him. Before this. Before being a Dark One.”_

_“Not really. I did my best with him. And I tried to appeal to his interests, but what else was I supposed to do if I expected you to love me?”_

_Her stomach flips in an unpleasant way and she feels nauseous. She looks down at her hands and sees his big, bulky ring on finger. She remembers when he let her have it despite the fact that each of his rings represents one of his kills._

_“And I’ve got to say, Swan, you loved me really well in that field of flowers,” he says, and she can hear the swell of pride in his voice._

_She feels violated, and suddenly her entire body goes cold and rigid. She swallows down bile as it starts to climb up her throat her mouth falls open as she stares at the ground. She doesn’t want to look at him, doesn’t want to see the pleasure he gets from seeing her fall apart. And that’s exactly what she’s doing._

_She’s been hurt so many times in the past, but she’s never felt as used and dirty as she does then. All she wants to do is stumble backward and magically find herself curled up on the floor inside a shower as the water pours down on her. She wants it to wash away the pain of Hook’s words and the slime she feels all over her skin from a beautiful moment that’s been twisted and forever tainted._

_“Emma!”_

_Her attention snaps to her left as she hears boots and heels on pavement rush toward her. Her parents pant as they approach and Regina looks nervous as she observes the scene in front of her._

_“Ah, just in time,” Hook says, his grin even wider when Emma finally chances a look at him. “I’m really going to enjoy this.”_

_“Hook,” Regina nearly barks out._

_He snarls as he looks over at the brunette._

_Regina takes a few steps forward, slow and cautious as she stops beside Emma. Her brown eyes are focused, determined, and she looks a little less worried than before, even if Emma senses the other woman is only wearing a mask._

_“Killian,” Regina speaks again, softer and less commanding that time. She sounds like she’s trying to level with him, be his friend. “You might not be the same person you were before we knew each other, but you can be that person again. Just like I’m not the Evil Queen anymore. You just have to make that choice for yourself.”_

_He scoffs. “Oh, so I get to choose who I want to be?_ Now _I get to choose if I’d rather live or die? Where was that choice when I explicitly told you to let me go?” He directs his last question at Emma and tightens his grip on Excalibur. “I finally made the first decent and selfless choice in a long time, but you disregarded what I wanted. So now, whatever you want, whatever you_ beg _for, I’ll take from you. You beg for your life, I’ll end it. You beg for theirs,” he says as he points Excalibur at her parents who stand off to the side behind her. “I’ll kill them. Better yet, I’ll let them watch as I kill you. And while you bleed out, you’ll get to see all three of them die.”_

_“Stop this nonsense,” Regina insists, and now she’s not wearing a mask over her true emotions. This time she’s defiant and doesn’t seem willing to back down. “You won’t be killing anyone.”_

_“You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you,” he sarcastically asks her._

_“Regina, don’t,” Emma chimes in and reaches out a hand to grab the other woman by the wrist._

_Hook’s eyes follow her hand and sees her grip Regina, firmly but not aggressively. He shakes his head and laughs. The laughter is unsettling, and naturally her grip on Regina tightens. She’s scared of Hook and knows that while Regina might be able to take on anyone in town, she’s fighting a Dark One. Regina’s never been able to beat Gold and, even though she’s gone up against Emma recently, she’s never been as messed up in power as Rumpel or Hook. Her only misdeed was what she’d done to Violet and Henry. Everything else she’s done has been to protect her family and to protect them she had to play the real villain. She’d hoped she’d be able to keep up the charade long enough to destroy all the darkness, but Hook’s right. She’s failed. She’s failed Henry and the rest of her family and instead of things ending in a brilliant moment of luminance, it’ll now end in bloodshed. Whether it’s her own blood or someone else’s, she’s still unsure, but she still has a job to do before it’s all over._

_She may have failed at destroying all darkness, but she still has her parents and Henry and Regina to protect. Again. She can still save them. She can still make one last sacrifice. For them._

_“I always knew there was something you were holding back,” Hook says and looks from her to Regina and then down again at her hand where it remains around the brunette’s wrist._

_She frowns and doesn’t get what he’s insinuating, but she doesn’t have a chance to think any further on the potential meaning of his words before he speaks again._

_“I’m going to take even more pleasure in doing this than what we did in that field.”_

_In an instant, their slow and drawn out_ _tête-à-_ _tête comes to a swift and abrupt end._

_He lifts Excalibur and lunges at her with it._

_Regina’s wrist breaks free from her grasp and suddenly, she’s flung away as a flash of dark hair and a light colored coat step in front of her. There’s a pained cry as she hits the ground, but it’s not from her or her parents who groan behind her. Panic sets in as she hears a wet sound before a thump._

_She hurries onto her feet and sees Hook standing over Regina with the darkest of smirks on his face. There’s blood on Excalibur,_ so much _blood, and Regina lays in the street with her hands on her stomach. Immediately, Emma’s reminded of Isaac Heller’s alternative version of the Enchanted Forest. Her vision flickers back and forth from the Storybrooke street in the dead of night and the bright Fall day in front of a wedding chapel in the forest. Leaves litter the ground Regina bleeds out on in the forest one second and then she’s bleeding on damp pavement the next. She’s watching Regina die for the second time in less than a year and she’s overwhelmed with emotion. She doesn’t have Henry to lean on like she did in the forest so this time, when she rushes to the brunette’s side, she tugs at the woman’s coat sleeves and presses her hands to Regina’s cheeks. She brushes her fingers through dark, silky hair and cries and cries and cries._

_“Regina,” she says softly in a pleading and desperate voice. “Why did you- You saved me.”_

_“You’ve worked- Too hard- To give ev-everyone else- a happy ending.  It’s time- someone let you- have yours,” Regina replies in stilted breaths and grunts. “Take…care of- Henry.”_

_It’s the last thing she says before she loses consciousness. She feels alone and lost and doesn’t understand why it feels like her heart is ready to explode out of her chest, which feels both tight and heavy as she stares down through teary eyes at the limp brunette she then decides to gather into her arms._

_“Please don’t leave me,” she cries into brunette hair and presses her forehead against Regina’s._

_She sniffles and cradles Regina’s head in her lap before she turns and looks up at Hook. He continues to stand over them and looks down at Emma with a serious expression on his face. His grin is gone and looks almost frightening._

_“Why? Why would you do this,” she asks him._

_“The blade was meant for you, Swan. She just got in the way. But…I can see it’s tearing you up inside so I’m actually glad she did. Now you’ll suffer, knowing this is all your fault. Her blood is on your hands, love.”_

_He moves Excalibur forward and wipes off one side of the blade on her jacket sleeve._

_“And now it’s on your precious leather as well,” he cockily says and then flashes her another grin._

_She sets her jaw and shifts Regina closer to her as she holds up a hand and attempts to use her magic on Hook, but he disappears in a swirl of smoke before she’s successful. Excalibur disappears with him._

She gasps and sobs and lets out little cries as the swirling, swooshing water dissipates and she finds herself on her hands and knees in a dark, almost pitch-black place. She takes a few deep breaths, but her chest still feels tight. She doesn’t know where she is or why she just relived such a traumatic event, one that she only experienced for the first time a few hours ago, and she doesn’t understand why she’s on the floor while Ursula remains on her feet. Although, the other woman is leaning on what seems to be a wall and she’s panting as she stares off into space with wide eyes. Maybe she’s relived something as well and isn’t actually fairing much better than her after all.

“Ah, ladies,” a man greets them with a clap of his hands and a toothy smile. “So glad you chose to join us.”

Emma pushes off the ground and straightens up. She brushes her hair out of her face and her fingers tangle in messy tresses.

The man in front of her wears a loose fitting and thin blue sweatshirt with dark wash jeans and some kind of work boots. She can tell he's at least slightly older than her due to the wrinkles around his eyes and the creases across his forehead, but other than that, he looks like a healthy middle aged man. Except for the hair, because it's fire. Apparently, the guy's a hothead. Whoever he is.

"Who are you," she asks and walks toward Ursula. They traveled together so they were going to stick together until they found what they wanted.

"Is that anyway to greet your host," he asks in response. "You don't even know who I am and yet _you_ sought out this place."

"Well, we're not exactly sure we landed in the right place," Ursula finally speaks up. "It's happened before."

"Hmm," he grunts out and rubs his chin between his index finger and thumb. "You're right. We've got to figure out where you belong here. Since neither of you is dead or _near_ death, you'll have to be sorted out the hard way."

"What," Emma steps forward, her brow furrowed and the rest of her muscles tight.

"Welcome to Hell, sweetheart," he says with a smirk and a bit of condescension, like Emma's too stupid to understand just what she's gotten herself into. "I'm Hades, Lord of the Underworld and I'll be your cruise director today.

"Normally, when a person comes to me, they're not all that alive. Because of that, they've already been assessed on the way down here. I know who they are and where they belong. The two of you, however, are very much alive and the only thing I know about either of you is what you're here for. Or rather _who_. That doesn't tell me anything about your character. I don't know if you belong with the more vicious villains or not. And if I don't know that...you can't get in."

"Whoa, okay, I did _not_ come to Hell to be _denied_ ," Emma barks at him. "I don't know if I deserve heaven or whatever else might be out there, but I _chose_ to come here before my time and I won't be shut out."

"Easy, easy. Down girl," he laughs. "All I have to do is figure out who you are and what your intentions here are."

"Ursula. Sea Goddess," Ursula curtly answers, probably just to move things along. "I would prefer to take Cruella back with me if she wants to leave, but if she doesn't I'll let her be and get out of your hair."

The man's lips curl even further upward and his hair flares an orange-pink before he says, "Excellent. I can take you to Cruella without a problem, but...if she does want to leave, there's something you'll have to do first. You have to exchange one life for another."

"I don't...I don't understand," Emma says when she hears that and watches Ursula's face fall with defeat.

"There's a balance," he answers. "Cruella's already dead. If Ursula wants to bring her back to life, she has to let someone else take Cruella's place."

Ursula seems to have either already known that, or at least expected it, because she doesn't look at all surprised. She only looks sad that there's no hope for a better outcome.

"It's a long shot," Ursula says then. "She probably doesn't want to leave anyway."

"And...if she doesn't leave? Will you stay or go," the man asks.

Ursula takes a breath and says, "I don't know. Do I still have time to decide?"

"Yes," he says. "Take all the time you need. Of course, the longer you stay here the less choice you'll have in the matter. That cut on your arm will reopen when your time starts to run out. Same goes for you."

Emma takes a few shallow breaths and then nods her understanding before the man continues.

"Now what is it you want, blondie," he asks her, his voice light and playful, with a knowing grin on his face and slides into her personal space. "Actually, I know what you want. First, I want to know your name."

She hesitates before she replies, "Emma."

"Ah, the fallen Savior and new Dark One. Yes," he purrs and holds out the "s" like a hiss. "I remember hearing all about you about a month ago. You took on the powers of the dagger and became the Dark One for someone here. How noble."

"I just want to bring her home. I don't...I don't have to let anyone die in her place, do I?"

He chuckles. "Not yet. She still has a chance."

Relief floods through Emma in that moment. A chance. That's all she needs. Just a chance, an opening, a single opportunity to talk to Regina and find a way to bring her home.

"How can I bring her back with me?"

* * *

_The pain in her stomach hurts worse than she expected. She's never been run through with a sword before, but she had been slashed with one in another world and a different time. Emma had been there, too. The blonde always seemed to be there._

_This time she doesn't save Henry. Last time she had, but this time it's about Emma. She did it to protect Emma. The younger woman took on the darkness for her and it was about time she did something strong and brave and selfless for Emma. It was time she gave Emma the happiness she's missed out on throughout her life, because of her._

_"_ _It’s time- someone let you- have yours,” she says as she starts to fade. She has one last thing to say to the other woman, something she's sure Emma already knows but it bears repeating just in case. "Take…care of- Henry."_

_She closes her eyes and her breathing starts to slow, but she can still hear Emma. The woman keeps jostling her around in her arms, though Regina's devoid of most feeling as she’s pulled deeper and deeper into unconsciousness._

_She thinks she feels tears fall on her, but she's not sure. The last thing she's aware of is that Hook still looms over them as Emma yells at him the same way Regina remembers yelling at Cora when she'd killed Daniel._

Regina wakes with a gasp and shoots up in bed. She pants out a few heavy exhales and takes in the dark room she's almost ready to start calling her own. It doesn't feel right, doesn't feel like home, but it's the only place she can be now. She doesn't belong with Emma and Henry. She's done. This is it.

This is where she's stuck and it's time to accept it. If she doesn't, she'll constantly hurt. She'll cry herself to sleep every night and she'll drink all day long. She'll refuse to do anything, even if Cruella continues to pester her about roaming through the Underworld to find entertainment, and she'll feel worse than death. Because even in Hell, even _dead_ , she has another chance at life. She can live right there. She can live in Hell, and yet, all she wants to do is be as drained and lifeless as she feels.

She takes a deep breath in and releases it in a long exhale. She runs a hand through her hair and goes to the bathroom inside her room to wash up before she heads downstairs again. The bar is a little more energetic again tonight, and although there's no thumping music or rowdy dancing, there's still some music on in the background. It plays softly like it's not the main attraction and there's a TV that's on in one of the corners. It's playing a sports game, but there's a remote set out on the bar near where a bartender is cleaning a glass so she assumes they don't _have_ to be watching sports. It’s just what’s on.

She takes a seat near the remote and waits for the bartender to serve the customer in front of her before the woman in a purple dress and nearly magenta colored hair moves over to help her.

"You weren't here before," Regina blurts out, her brow furrowed as she looks over the other woman.

"No. I try not to be in the Underworld at all, although here is better than the rest of the realm," the woman says. "I'm Meg."

"I'm...Regina. Do you mind if I ask…why are you in the Underworld at all?"

Meg sighs and folds her arms on the counter before she leans on them and lowers herself to be eye level with the brunette. "Hades tells me when he needs help and I help. No one else will and I don’t agree with why he was disowned.”

“Disowned?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s my uncle by marriage so I didn’t always know the truth about why he’s here and not up in the clouds with my father-in-law Zeus and the rest of the family. But when Hercules told me, I was the only one to defend him. Came to find him some hundred years ago and now he’s got at least one person in the family to talk to. And every time I go back up to the rest of the family, they bitch and moan about my visits here. I don’t have the patience for that. You know?”

“You’re tired of the backlash, but you don’t regret anything," she deduces.

"Yeah. I'd rather be living my life. You know? But just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he should have to make a life for himself in a place that, quite frankly, was a vast and empty place until he was banished here and forced to make it his home.”

"But you still don't like it here, in Hell," Regina says it like a statement and not a question, though she's curious to know the answer.

"Sometimes it’s not my favorite place to be. Villains are always so strange to me. Although, I think the people here are less villain-y and more...misunderstood. That's what my uncle was...until he made this place."

Regina stares at Meg as the woman looks across the bar like she's in a trance. She has a fond smile on her face and Regina thinks she's looking at something, or someone, and turns to see what could have the other woman's attention.

Hades is walking into the bar and gesturing around the place as he weaves through the small crowd with two women tailing him. She can't quite make out who they are, but she knows Hades by his fiery blue head.

"I'm proud of him," Meg adds. "He's so comfortable here. And...he doesn't do even half the things a lot of people in the Underworld have, but he welcomes them anyway. He says it's because they've all been outcasts at some point and he identifies with that."

Regina breathes out and her lips twitch into a brief smile as she inwardly agrees. Her eyes are still on Hades and the two women with him, so when she catches a glimpse of blonde she gasps. She blinks a few times, her eyes wide as she tries to look a little harder through the crowd. It can't be real. She can't be real.

But when she steps out past the people as Hades leads her to the stairwell, Regina can't deny what she saw only seconds ago. Emma Swan is there. The blonde moves across the room, the other woman and Hades are in front of her as she follows and looks around at the place with interest and awe.

And then it stops. Everything stops. Emma looks over in her direction and their eyes met across the room. The conversations around her are drowned out by the cries she hears in her head, but doesn’t remember when or why or how she ever heard them.

_"Please stay with me."_

_"Don't leave."_

_"Regina!"_

Her vision dims until all she can see is Emma. Emma who's standing still even as the other woman and Hades continued toward the stairwell before Regina lost sight of them. Green eyes are focused intently on her and she just can't look away. She knows in her heart that it's Emma, the real Emma. Hook probably killed her. The blonde screwed up and didn't finish Captain Guyliner off like she should have, and now Henry doesn't have any parents. He's an orphan just like Emma was, except he at least has his grandparents to raise him. Still, it's not the same and she's not supposed to be here. She's supposed to be _safe_.

"Emma," she quietly says on an exhale.

She watches as the younger woman's lips part in response. She can't tell what the blonde is feeling, or even what she might be feeling. It appears that she's either in disbelief or she's just overwhelmed and doesn't know how to process what she's seeing or what's happening.

Truthfully, Regina isn't sure she knows how to process what she's seeing either. She's not even sure what's happening or why Emma's there. So she slides off the bar stool and starts to walk over to the blonde, but a few people walk in front of the younger woman and block her from view. When the people pass, Emma's nowhere to be seen. She's just...gone.

Regina sighs and her shoulders sag with defeat and disappointment. Maybe she was only seeing things. Maybe she imagined Emma there because even though she wants the other woman to be alive and well in Storybrooke with their son, she still craves to see a friend in this new life of hers.

Instead, she only sees familiar faces and it's not enough. Cruella approaches from a distant point across the room and it's not enough to know the person, to recognize the people in Hell from her past life. It's not enough that she's seen Cruella a few times before Storybrooke and a few times after and is now able to maybe befriend the woman while they're down here. It's not enough because, aside from Cruella missing Ursula in a way that she finds herself missing Emma, they don't understand each other. They don't fit. They aren't those people. They can't be friends. Not like she and Emma were. Not even like she and Snow had sort of started to become. It's different and it's not enough. But...maybe it has to be.

"Hello again, dahling," Cruella greets her with a bright smile. Her lips look a little brighter red than they had been the previous night and her fur coat isn't the only luxurious accessory she's wearing today. As the woman takes a seat on the empty stool next to her, she sees light reflect off a red and white diamond necklace. It looks like something she'd seen in her mother's jewelry box once when she was much younger, but that's probably another thing she's imagining.

"Hello, Cruella," she replies. Her tone isn't icy, but she's not sure they should really be friendly either, and instead settles on a neutral tone. "How's your inter-realm travel going?"

"Well enough, I suppose. I can still only manage to go back and forth from here and the place I started in."

"The pl-place you started in," she asks before she even thinks to check if Meg is still there. She is, but she's at least a good enough person to _pretend_ she's not listening to them as she wipes down the counter just a little further down from them. "What part did you start in?"

"I'm not sure there was really a name for it, but the men there weren't gay. They were actually extremely delectable. I almost took one home before I met someone else. I'm waiting for them now, in fact."

"You met someone? But what about Ursula?"

Cruella laughs and says, "Oh, not that kind of someone. She's a friend. She's been trying to help me get around so we could have a little more fun. She doesn't like staying in one place if she's not in control of it."

Regina frowns. She has a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach and there's something telling her she should run. Her heart starts to beat a little faster and she thinks she's sweating, but she doesn't know with absolute confidence. She's too fearful to know if it's just tingles down her spine or if there's perspiration on any other part of her body.

Cruella turns and waves someone down before she happily says, "There she is now."

As soon as Regina sees the woman in a red shirt and black pants on her way over to them, her blood runs cold. She really shouldn't have expected anything less than torture when she came here. Maybe she truly was destined to be unhappy, even after death.

"Cruella, dear," Cora says with a warm smile and a healthy display of teeth. Her lips are the same shade as Cruella's and Regina realizes they probably shared it.

Regina shudders at the thought and doesn’t dare ask how Cruella managed to get lipstick from her mother. She doesn’t want to know, even if the other woman only asked for it and the tube was momentarily lent so she could apply it.

Cora wraps Cruella in a hug like they haven't seen each other in days, and then the older woman sees her over Cruella's fur-covered shoulder. "Regina! What are you- You're here."

Cruella pulls away from the hug, but Cora's arms have already lost most of their grip by the time she does.

"Hello, Mother," she says through partly gritted teeth, her voice rough as she tries not to bolt like a frightened child.

"How are you here? What happened," Cora asks. For a second, Regina thinks the woman sounds concerned or sad about her daughter's apparent fate, but then she remembers all the magic and harsh words. She couldn't possibly... But then there was the last thing her mother ever said to her.

 _"You would have been enough."_ And isn't that such a lovely sentiment. More recently she's not so sure Cora meant it, but as soon as she'd lost her mother she thought she really had.

"I...I was stabbed," she chooses to say as an answer and leaves out all the rest.

"Well, that's a little dissatisfying. Did you at least go down with a fight?"

There's the interrogative mother she remembers. Maybe being in Hell means she died, but even with her heart, she doesn't have much compassion left in it.

"Not exactly," she quietly admits.

"Regina, dear, please." Cora steps into her personal space and places both her hands on Regina's biceps. She gives them a little squeeze before she adds, "Just tell me what happened."

"She sacrificed herself for the Savior," Cruella cuts in.

Cora's eyes light up with...something. She's not quite sure if she's in trouble or if the woman is just surprised by the truth.

"You... That girl? The blonde you share a son with," Cora asks with a cocked head and curious eyes. She still doesn’t know if Cora's going to yell at her and dig her nails into her skin, or if the woman just wants to hear what she has to say.

"Yes," she timidly replies and averts her eyes.

"Oh, dear," Cora says as her mother hooks a finger under her chin and gently forces her to make eye contact. "Why would you be willing to die for her after all the trouble you went through to get your son back? To try and make him all yours?"

“I…I don’t know,” she lies and looks down again, her chin still in Cora’s grasp.

“We both know that’s not true,” Cruella laughs.

She swallows and pulls out of her mother’s grasp. Cora surprisingly lets her go.

“Aw,” her mother says with a slight pout before she runs both hands through her hair and finger combs it near the tips. “Well, we have each other now. You don’t need her. If it’s women you’re interested in, I’m sure we can find someone who actually deserves you.”

She’s startled by that. She’s never heard her mother be so supportive. Of course, the woman’s also tearing down Emma because she doesn’t know the whole story and probably never liked the blonde at all. There was a time when Regina would have agreed with her and scoffed at the name Emma Swan. But now she just wishes that it had been real when she saw the younger woman across the room earlier.

“You want…you want to set me up,” she asks with obvious confusion in her eyes. Her head is cocked and her brow furrowed. She's not sure what answer she wants to hear.

“You need to get over her,” Cora supplies. “What better way to do that than to have some fun? Already I see plenty of women who can entertain you.”

She cringes and regrets ever asking about being set up. She doesn’t know why or how long her mother’s genuine concern is going to last, as strange and slightly disturbing as it is, but she thinks she should enjoy it. She _wants_ to enjoy it. So she nods and agrees to the madness that is her mother attempting to get her laid.


	5. Chapter 5

Meg is extremely helpful in getting Cora and Cruella drunk. The temporary bartender keeps the drinks coming and the two deceased villains laugh together and into their drinks as they talk about past crimes and stupid people. They sit close together on their stools, too close for Regina’s comfort, and she notices that every so often her mother will drape a hand over Cruella's shoulder and play with her hair. It’s strange. Her mother has never been even remotely nice to other women and always used herself and her own daughter to get, and stay, ahead in life. But Hell seems to have changed her, and maybe at that point in time it’s only the alcohol that makes her extra friendly. Regina doesn’t care why she’s acting the way she’s acting. She’s just happy not to be criticized. Although, she could do without all the touching.

Cruella leans into Cora's side and purrs as she talks about “delicious encounters”, her words, and Cora relives some of her youth. And that’s when Regina wants to burn her eyes with the next drink Meg serves her.

“Eva used to know just how to get to me,” Cora growls and stares ahead with dark, intense eyes. “She thought she was so much better than me.”

Cruella hums and nods her head before she says, “I imagine she was quite the pain.”

“The worst kind. Even _giving birth_ to _both_ of my daughters was less painful than how irritating she was.”

Regina tenses as she watches Cora throw back the rest of her drink and swallow while Cruella lifts a cigarette to mouth and has a drag, her cheek pressed to Cora’s shoulder. She doesn’t know what’s coming, but she doesn’t feel prepared for whatever it is.

Cora's eyes soften and her lips curl into a twisted smirk as she lowers her glass on the bar. And then she confesses, “I used to sneak her handmaiden into her bedchamber when she was too busy being an insipid little princess and I fucked her help good and hard.”

Regina chokes on her drink and spits it back into her glass. She cringes at the information she wishes she never knew, but still has to suffer through the confession as Cora continues.

“She never knew that the handmaiden and I dirtied her sheets over and over. I made sure the maiden didn’t clean up and then Eva would sleep in our filth.

“Years later, I finally killed the bitch and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as satisfied.”

“Mother,” she finally scolds the woman. Her eyes are wide with discomfort and shock.

“What,” her mother asks in her response as she laughs at Regina’s expression.

“You did all of that, but I couldn’t have a life with Daniel?”

“It was before I met your father,” Cora explains with a casual, dismissive wave of her hand before she gulps down the rest of her and places the empty glass on the bar. “There were no expectations and I still had a chance to get some less decent revenge. So I did. With the handmaiden. My gods, that girl had an incredible body.”

“Please stop,” she loudly begs and shoots off her own barstool.

“Oh, ease up, dahling,” Cruella says. “Don’t pretend you didn’t want to fuck the cute little blonde on her mother’s bed a few times for all kinds of sweet revenge.”

“ _Sick_ revenge. That’s what that would have been,” she insists.

Cruella uncharacteristically shrugs and then grins before she says with a raspy voice, “You didn’t deny it.”

“My, my, Regina. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” Cora says with a wicked glint in her eyes that reminds her of Zelena at her most insane. Her sister wasn’t raised by Cora at all, but apparently she'd picked up on a few things simply through biology. She supposes that’s also true of Henry and Emma, but she doesn’t want to think about them.

She also doesn’t want to think about her mother having sex. At all. Not with men or women and certainly not with her father. To avoid thinking about any of those things, she backs away from the bar and looks over the counter at Meg. The other woman looks at her sympathetically before she slides a drink down the bar to another customer. Once the drink is out of her hand, Meg walks out from behind the bar. The other woman touches her elbow and starts to gently pull her away from Cora and Cruella.

On their move away from the bar, they spot Hades and Meg shouts at him, "I'm taking a break."

Hades rolls his eyes and Regina thinks she hears him grunt, but she can't hear over the music as they make their way onto the dance floor. Cora pouts like it's so upsetting that her daughter doesn't want to stick around for more sex stories, but her pout turns into a grin as soon as the elder woman notices how Meg is touching her and where she's taking Regina.

The song changes and Meg smiles as she takes both of Regina's wrists in her hands before she slides them up Regina’s arms to briefly settle on the brunette’s shoulders.

"I'm not the greatest dancer, but sometimes I've got just to move," Meg says, and starts to sway in time to the beat.

Regina sighs with relief and smiles back at the other woman. "Thank you."

"I figured you'd ask for bleach if I left you there listening to her go on any longer."

"You're absolutely right," she chuckles and matches her movements to the song's rhythm. She places her hands on Meg's hips as they move together and then slide just a little bit closer every few seconds. "I'm...glad my mother isn't...like she was before, but I don't-I don't prefer to hear stories of her love life."

" _Love_ life? Please, you and I both know it's her _sex_ life."

She shivers in Meg's arms and closes her eyes as she shakes her head. She wills away the mental images of her mother in bed with people to the best of her ability, but it's not entirely successful, and all she can see is flashes of Cora hatefucking the handmaiden as a stand-in for Eva. She scrunches up her face and shudders.

Meg quietly chuckles and pulls her in closer so the other woman's lips graze her cheekbone. Hot breath blows against a few strands of hair that cover Regina's temple and Meg slides one of her hands around to cup the back of her neck.

"Just focus on this moment. Right here," Meg breathes into her ear. "No one else exists. It's just you and me and this dance floor."

In that moment, however, it's not just her and Meg. It's her and Meg, a friendly woman in a throng of strangers to replace the one person she wishes more than anyone—aside from Henry—was there with her. She just wants Emma to hold her and sway to the music with her, wants Emma to be the one whispering in her ear and telling her to focus on the small, but incredible, moment.

But Meg isn't Emma, and Regina stiffens in the other woman's arms as Meg's lips graze her cheek again before placing a soft, chaste kiss against her alcohol-heated skin. She frowns and furrows her brow as she wonders why it's so hard to just let this happen. She has nothing else, and despite knowing Meg has a husband and children, she knows nothing they do on the dance floor will lead to them heading upstairs to Regina's room. She knows Meg just needs a break sometimes because that's what the woman had said, but she knows she can't do this. She can't even pretend, not for a second, that she wants to be wrapped up like this, or a little less innocently tangled up, in her room with anyone other than Emma.

She puffs out a sharp and heavy sigh against Meg's shoulder as she dips her head and squeezes her eyes shut.

"I'm sorry," Meg says and pulls back to look her in the eyes. "You're still stuck on someone. The Savior?"

"Emma," she corrects in an almost reverent tone before she searches Meg's eyes and sees more sympathy. She looks back over at the bar and sees Cruella and Cora touching each other's faces and picking at their shirt sleeves like two horny drunks seeking comfort in another's physical affection. She has a version of her mother that wants to see her succeed in a way that would make her happy and not sad, but she can't talk to Cora while she's feeling up Cruella. She can't cry on her mother's shoulder, so it's nothing new. She's never been able to do that. But she needs someone to talk to. More than that, she needs Emma, but that's the one thing she can't have and she just wants, wants, _wants_.  "I- I should go."

She flicks her wrist and realizes for the first time since coming here that she's without magic. She's even more disappointed than before and frowns before she rushes on foot toward the stairs. If she was more like Emma, she would have taken them each two at time. She's not like Emma, though. She just hurries up to her room as fast as she can and does it step by single step. She throws open the door to her floor and pauses in the threshold to catch her breath.

She's on the verge of tears and needs to control her emotions before she breaks down in the hallway. When she feels comfortable enough to make it the rest of the way to her room, she slowly pushes herself off the door frame and trudges down the hall. Almost as soon as she reaches her door, she feels a chill run through her and lifts her head from where her eyes are focused on the lock as she hesitates to turn the key in it.

Her eyes focus on the silver numbers of her apartment and she watches a shadow move from left to right as it grows in size. Immediately, she knows she's not alone and whoever is in the hall with her is on their way toward her. She removes her key from the lock and holds it tightly in her hand as she whips around to face the other person. When she turns, she's surprised to see someone she recognizes and loosens her grip on her key.

"It's you," she says.

The woman in front of her smiles and says, "Can't get anything past you, dead or alive."

"Wh-what are you doing here," she asks. " _How_ did you get here?"

"That seems like kind of a long story when I think about it," Ursula answers. "And really, neither one of us really wants to catch up. I just want to know if you've seen Cruella."

"Oh, yes. She's...downstairs with my mother."

"At the bar?" Ursula looks both confused and surprised, but Regina ignores it.

"Was that you Hades was showing around earlier?"

Ursula sighs and nods. "Yeah, that was me."

"You- Em- Were you alone?"

"Tell me exactly where Cruella is and I can answer that for you," Ursula replies.

She shakes her head. It can't be true. What she saw...it couldn't be real. She couldn't have seen- No. It's just not possible. It's just a trick of the imagination. It's just a wish, a desire, a far off dream she could never have and should never want. It's—

"Emma," she exhales. It's a breathy sound, but the blonde's name carries so much weight with it no matter how it's spoken.

Ursula tilts her head to the side and flashes her a knowing smile. The other woman crosses her arms over her chest and cocks a hip before she repeats," Cruella's at the bar?"

"Yes," Regina quickly answers before she just as quickly steps into Ursula's personal space. "She's here? Emma's here?"

 Ursula's knowing smile widens. "Next floor," she says as she points to the ceiling. "Room four eleven."

She doesn't think. She just goes. She accidentally bumps Ursula's shoulder as she runs past the other woman on her way back to the stairs. She gracelessly yanks open the door and then does something so unlike her. She takes the steps two at a time until she's on Emma's floor, gasping for breath from the exertion, while she looks left and then right in search of 411. She can barely make out any of the numbers on the door and just thinks of Emma, Emma, only Emma, until she's standing in front of room 411.

She gulps and raises a shaky hand before she knocks a few times and then waits. It's unbearable and it feels like a lifetime before the door opens to a blonde in a sleeveless black shirt and tight pants. The black leather jacket the other woman seems fond of as the Dark One is abandoned somewhere beyond Regina's direct line of sight, which is currently Emma. That's it. That's all she sees. Just as it was downstairs. This is that moment Meg was talking about. In that moment it's just her and Emma and the doorway they're standing in.

Both women stare at each other with wide eyed expressions and parted lips. They both seem a little breathless, and while Regina knows her main reason for being so out of breath is her sprint up the stairs, she also knows a large part of it has to do with seeing Emma there. She's astounded, but she also thinks she should scream at the younger woman because this wasn't the plan. She didn't make such a big sacrifice for Emma to risk her life, yet again, to save her.

She _knows_ she should scream, should argue with Emma about what's right and wrong and ask where Henry is because that's extremely important to know. But she can't. She doesn't. Instead of lecturing and arguing and asking question after question, she just lunges forward and closes the small remaining space between them.

She crashes her lips against Emma's and takes both of them by surprise with a hard and desperate kiss. She cups the back of Emma's neck with one hand and lightly scrapes her nails against it as her fingers tangle in blonde tresses free from the bun the other woman has been styling her hair in for the past month.

She gasps into a second kiss and tugs at Emma’s hair as she pulls the younger woman closer against her. Their bodies melt together, but they still don't feel close enough, so she backs Emma against the door frame and nips at the woman's bottom lip. She slips her tongue between slightly parted lips and pushes her way into Emma's hot mouth. She moans against the blonde's lips before she feels Emma wrap both arms around her waist and pull them further into the room. Her mind hardly registers the sound of the door closing before she feels herself pinned against it and then hoisted into the air by strong arms.

Their lips break apart as her back slides up the length of the door before she instinctively wraps her legs around Emma's waist. She uses her legs to pull Emma back in and immediately feels the younger woman's breasts firmly against her own, her clothed sex pressed directly against Emma's torso.

Emma places a hand on her hip and slides it up her side. She groans when the blonde reaches her breast and squeezes. It’s then she remembers Emma’s still the Dark One because the younger woman growls and claws at her sides and hips while Emma yanks her away from the door.

She pants against Emma’s mouth and cheeks a moment before she hits the bed. As soon as she opens her eyes, she sees Emma hovering over her with gorgeous green eyes and an open, vulnerable expression on her face. She bit her lip as she stared at the other woman and basked in her beauty. And then she breaks the moment and pushes Emma away with her hands pressed to the blonde’s chest before they can kiss again.

Emma grunts and stumbles a few steps back while Regina sits up and scoots to the edge.

“What’s wrong,” Emma asks with a frown. “You kissed me. Why did you stop?”

“Because you’re not supposed to be here,” she immediately answers. “What the hell happened?!”

“I came here to bring you home,” Emma replies with a sad pout.

“Did you let yourself get _killed_ to do that? What about Henry? Honestly, Miss Swan—”

“Two seconds ago I was _Emma_. And you were _very_ happy to see me.”

"Yes, well, that was before you went out of your way to come here. The whole point of taking the sword for you was because l—”

She stops herself. She's already explained why she moved in front of Emma. The blonde knew she'd given up everything to repay the favor. And there was more to it than that, but they just kissed so she really doesn't think the other reason needs vocalizing.

"Regina? Tell me what's going on? Why are you suddenly so upset?"

"Because I asked you to take care of Henry, but instead you _left_ him."

"With my parents! And I'm not dead. I can get back just fine. It's _you_ I'm worried about."

"Why? I did this for you!"

"Well, you shouldn’t have!"

They stare at each other, wide eyed and a little breathless from the fight they didn't realize they started. She's not entirely sure when or why she started yelling at Emma, but apparently the lecture she didn't give earlier has come later rather than not at all.

"I thought you didn't like being the Savior, having everyone count on you, or always look to you for solutions to their problems instead of just treating you like a person. With feelings." Emma sighs, but Regina just continues to talk. "But now you're saying I can't help you? That _I'm_ always going to be the only one that needs help out of the two of us? I'm not defenseless."

"I know that," Emma says with a partially guilty expression.

"Then what exactly are you trying to tell me? Why shouldn't I have stepped in front of you?"

"Because I...I might not be nothing, but I- You should be the one to stay."

She opens and closes her mouth before she blows out a heavy sigh. "I can't."

"Why not? You're not... You didn't die, Regina. There's still a chance."

She pops up her head and stares at Emma with shock written across her features. She feels her jaw drop and part her lips while she stands there and searches green eyes for further explanation, but all says is, "You can come back."

"Wh-what if I don't want to," she quietly asks in the room that was once ripe with a fresh start and is now quickly filling with tension.

Emma frowns. The blonde's entire face falls and she looks hurt. If there's even something she wants to say about Regina's response, she doesn't because there's suddenly a knock on the younger woman's door. The blonde walks away to answer it and Regina's left on the bed to straighten out her clothes and collect herself.

"Hey, is Regina here," the brunette overhears and swallows as she hurries to stand and then shuffles awkwardly in front of the bed before Ursula barges into the room. When the other woman locks eyes on her, she looks furious. And yet there's a sense of surprise and unease about her as well. "What the hell is your mother doing here?"

Regina feels a little bit of relief that Ursula's not upset with her, especially because talking about Cora's presence being a shock is something she can understand. "I have no idea. Cruella said they met somewhere in another part of this realm and they found a way over here. They didn't waste any time with details about when and how, but Cruella mentioned they’re bored."

"That woman is unbelievable. I know I have no right to ask this of anyone, because it's not my decision to make, but I really need you to get Cora the hell away from Cruella."

"Oh no," she says and nearly feels herself turn pale. "What's she doing? Do I even want to know?"

"She's all over her," Ursula answers.

"What," Emma loudly jumps back into the conversation.

"You always had such a flare for timing, dear. Glad to see that hasn't changed, despite all the other things that have changed about you recently," Regina says to the younger woman.

She takes Ursula by the arm and ushers her out of Emma's room. She brushes past the blonde on the way, but doesn’t look at her and doesn't say anything. Emma, of course, is incapable of keeping her mouth shut and does say something as she makes her way into the hallway with Ursula.

"We're not done talking, Regina."

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before she lets go of Ursula and turns back around to face the younger woman. "If I want to talk to you, I know where to find you," she says and then makes a point to shut Emma's door behind her with a steely gaze directed at the woman on the other side of it.

There's more to be said, more they need to talk about, and Regina can agree with that much. She won't, however, let Emma barrel into her life again. This time she'll set the pace and she'll decide when they talk and what they discuss. Right now, she doesn't want to do that so she closes the door on Emma in hopes that the younger woman will keep her distance, for now.

She really shouldn't have thought that would be possible, though. It's Emma she's dealing with, and that woman never lets anything go. So, she shouldn't be surprised when the blonde refuses to sit back and shut up. And yet, she's still completely blown away by how Emma Swan manages, yet again, to burst into her world and break down everything she's built up around herself.

* * *

Emma sighs as she sits on her bed. Whatever she expected to happen with Regina when she arrived in Hell, it wasn't that. The brunette surged into her room almost as soon as the door was open and crashed into her. On purpose. 

The kiss had so many emotions behind it, but the most notable thing about it was that Regina had initiated it. Emma's known Regina long enough to know she goes after what she wants, but she's also extremely hesitant. She doesn't like surprises, so she most likely isn't much of a risk taker. Well, not anymore. Casting the Dark Curse because there was a possibility she would be happy on the other side of it was a pretty big risk. But now? Now, she waits for tattoos and pixie dust and fate and gets upset when things don't work out in her favor, despite all the supposed signs that it's her happily ever after. 

Oh god. Regina was with Robin. It wouldn't have been her first time getting involved with someone who's taken, but she didn't start whatever it was Regina had started. Or finished? Were they finished? Regina ran out of the room like she'd made the biggest mistake of her life. Her face had shown a completely different feeling than had been expressed during their series of hot and heavy kisses. 

Emma thinks it's a miracle that Regina was that happy to see her. She thinks it's a miracle Regina even touched her at all whether or not happiness or relief was involved. She also thinks she's never felt better than she did holding Regina, feeling their lips pressed together and their hands all over each other's bodies in desperate need to be closer and more connected. 

She looks down at her lap and sees her hands, hands that only seconds ago were memorizing Regina Mills' curves. And then she sees the blood red ring on her finger. It's big and bulky and weighs a ton, weighs her down. She's suffocated by the thick metal as well as the reminder it brings when she looks at it.

She remembers sad stories told in Camelot and remembers the sympathy she felt after hearing them, even though the truth behind what he'd given her was a trophy from a tragedy. Hook slipped one of his rings on her finger like it meant something; like he'd given her a part of himself, no matter how ugly that part might have been. Because he trusted her with every side of himself; the pirate, the drunk, the villain. 

But the ring was one of the few he adorned, each taken off someone he killed. She accepted his past and believed there was still good in him. He believed there was good in her, even with all that darkness stirring inside her. And after that, there had been the field. She gave him more than he gave her and she thought it was good. She thought it was okay. 

It wasn't. None of what's happened since she became the Dark One has been okay. It's been more pain and suffering and stupid false hope. 

But with Regina, when they kissed, it was... Everything felt right. She felt safe and lighter than she has in months. She doesn't regret anything she's done for Regina, but she regrets almost everything else, and apparently Regina regrets ever having come to her door. 

So she sits there in a strange room in a place far from home and feels worse by the second. She's there to bring Regina back, and while she hadn't expected the brunette to do any of what she'd done, she's still going to fight to save her. She's used to being abandoned and left feeling unwanted, but that's never stopped her from wanting to be good for the people that passed her off or forgot about her. And she wants to be good, for Regina. For Henry. She's there to do everything she can to make Regina want to live, convince her to go back to Henry and have that damn happy ending she's wanted for so long. 

She doesn't even realize she's crying until she has to blink away tears that well up while she's thinking about everything she could have had, and wants to have, with Regina. It's fine. She's given up a lot of things for the other woman and she knows Regina doesn't owe her. She doesn't want Regina to owe her, or even feel like she needs to repay a favor. That's how so many relationships, if Emma could even call them that, started in her life, and none of them ever ended well. Most recently her relationship with Hook. 

But Regina had been the one to kiss her. It wasn't a thank you kiss. There was no gratitude or repayment behind Regina's actions. Maybe she read too much into it, but there had been more to it than owing someone. She's confused, though, and that's on her. She can't blame Regina for kissing her if that was some kind of accident. It didn't feel like it at the time, but she knows from experience that her own accident was ever giving Hook a chance. She shouldn't have let him in, shouldn't have stayed with him as long as she did, and she definitely shouldn't have fooled herself into thinks she could find love and happiness like her parents. No one's ever really loved her like that, and after being tossed aside like a used tissue one too many times, she's closed herself off to plenty of opportunities and opened herself up to all the wrong ones. It's just how it is. It's how she is. She might not be a hero, and she's not really the Savior anymore, but anyone held to a higher standard is usually meant to suffer in silence and be alone. 

She thinks about why she basically sold her soul to save Regina that night when the darkness surrounded her and she shouted, _"There has to be another way!"_

_"You've worked too hard to have your happiness destroyed."_

Not long before that she'd seen Regina dying in those leaves to protect Henry. She'd heard Regina say to him, "I couldn't let you die" even though she didn't know and never believed it when Emma and Henry told her she was his mother. She wouldn't have had to see Henry die if she'd just gone inside the chapel and stopped the wedding, which Emma thought she would do. Because Regina's happy ending isn’t a man, but it would be a nice—and damn powerful thing—to have someone in her life that made her feel loved every day by doing even the smallest of things, like bringing her breakfast in bed and giving her space when she needs it, or just believing her. Even if what she’s saying sounds as crazy as “your recently revived wife is actually my wicked half-sister.” Instead, she chose Henry, and Emma was sure that no matter what happened, Regina would always choose Henry. It's one of many things they have in common and it's so selfless. It's so goddamn selfless and Emma wants nothing but the best for that amazing woman, because she deserves it. She deserves so much. 

Emma would give her anything she wants just to see her smile. So she imagines what life would be like back in Storybrooke, imagines Regina happy and healthy with Henry, and maybe Robin and Roland or maybe with someone else. She imagines being able to see Regina live the life she's fought so hard for the last couple decades. Even if she's never Regina's choice, first or otherwise, she's determined to give Regina as many chances at happiness as she can. She's thought about what that might mean for her, especially after cheating death a few times already, and she's willing to make that final sacrifice if it means Regina has all that she's been looking for. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Cora's thrill-seeking desire isn't quelled easily, and having fun with Cruella, in many facets of the word "fun", thrills her a lot. She's reluctant to give Ursula and Cruella space to talk about what happened before Cruella hit the dirt and ended up in the Underworld. She's even more reluctant to keep her hands off the two-toned haired woman. Apparently Cruella's body is just as incredible as Eva's handmaiden's, if not more so, because the dead villain is, according to Cora, "built for sin."

She shivers in the garden as she sits on a bench and stares up at the artificial moon while actively trying _not_ to think about her mother "sinning" with the other woman, or anyone for that matter. Thankfully, Ursula has a chance to talk to Cruella like she's denying Emma from having the chance to do with her. Unfortunately, since Cruella and her mother snuck into this part of the realm and don't belong, they don’t have their own rooms and have to share with people who do belong. If Cruella isn't too upset with Ursula, then the two of them will be staying together and that only leaves Cora to stay with her. It's not ideal. She doesn't want to share a room in Hell with her mother, and definitely not a bed.

But that's exactly what will happen when she leaves the garden and heads back upstairs. Her mother is already in the room and probably making a fuss about how it isn't at all up to her standards. If the woman could complain to some form of management or—even better—the help, she would most likely change everything about the place without pause. It's why Regina’s not up in her room right now and instead remains in the garden; because she doesn't dare sit at the bar either, in case Emma walks past and decides to talk to her.

She shouldn't have asked what would happen if she doesn't want to go home. It's absurd to think she doesn't want to go back to Henry because she does. She loves him, but maybe there's something else keeping her here. Maybe there's something else she wants to go home to, aside from her son. Maybe she shouldn't have spoken up at all. She still thinks about what could have happened had she not pushed Emma away. She thinks about how far things would have gone if she'd just pulled the blonde closer instead of throwing her back. She's even dreamed of it before Emma showed up.

She takes a deep breath and releases it in a loud and heavy sigh as she tips her head back. She closes her eyes and feels the breeze against her face, listens to the wind as she sits in a secluded spot between sections of the Underworld—just as absurd a thought as her not wanting to see Henry again—and tries to relax. Ever since Emma came to Storybrooke, her life has been more chaotic than the peace and quiet she'd grown used to during the curse. She hasn't had a moment alone, a moment of solitude, since that eyesore metal coffin drove into her town, until Hell. And now that Emma's _here_ , it's more chaotic than not. Mostly her thoughts and feelings have been further jumbled up by the blonde's presence, but there's not much else that's really Emma's fault. She certainly would never blame Emma for her mother's strange and unexpected arrival, not to mention all the disastrous things Cora takes pleasure in while she makes herself comfortable in Hell. It's all a mess now.

It doesn't have to be. She knows that. She understands that she's making things much more complicated than they are, or even have to be, but she can't help it. When she lost Daniel, she started to resist everything good and simple she wanted for fear of losing it. With Daniel she could have been free, so instead of focusing on the loss of a man she loved dearly, she focused on the kind of life they wanted to lead. She focused on freedom and did what she thought would grant her that freedom. But...she's never really loved again, aside from Henry that is. And Robin's her soulmate, but she doesn't think that's her own choice to love again. It's just how things are. _Were_ , she corrects herself. She's not a part of that world anymore. She isn't in Robin's life right now. She doesn't exist beyond this realm, beyond Hell and the entirety of the Underworld. _It's_ not a mess. She is.

"It's ironic how cold this place is," she hears a familiar voice say from behind her.

She doesn't have to turn around to know who it is, so she faces forward and keeps her back to her uninvited guest. Her hands are in her lap and her shoulders are stiff as she curls into herself to ward off the chill of the air.

Emma comes closer and walks in front of her before she takes a seat on the bench. Their legs touch and she shivers for an entirely different reason than she had earlier, but she doesn't lean in any closer. She might need body heat, but she won't cuddle with Emma to get it. She'd rather suffer the cold than move any closer to the source of her confusion.

"So...your mom's here," the younger woman says and rubs her hands up and down her thighs, presumably to warm herself up.

"She is," Regina flatly, and unnecessarily, replies.

"Is...that...a good thing?"

"Why does that matter?"

"Well, last time I... She wasn't... And then with what happened…"

She closes her eyes again and runs her hands through her hair before she asks, "Will you ever speak in full sentences again or are you just going to stop making any sense now?"

She finally looks at Emma and immediately she realizes it's a mistake. Green eyes are open and vulnerable again and her usually pink and slightly chapped lips, now painted red, are set in a small frown. It's almost a pout and it looks adorable, even reminds her of Henry when he was younger and had just woken up. He would rub the sleep from his eyes and pout as he clutched his teddy bear or blanket, whatever he'd slept with, before he grumbled about not feeling well.

"Now you're the one that's not making any sense," Emma says.

She snaps out of her thoughts and furrows her brow as she stares at Emma, uncomprehending.

"First you're growling at me for not speaking coherently, and then you started smiling," Emma informs her.

"I'm...sorry," she carefully starts to confess. "I was thinking of Henry."

"I...guess I'll take that as a compliment?"

"Any time I smile it should be taken as a compliment."

And then it's Emma who's smiling.

She rolls her eyes and slides away from the younger woman, but remains on the bench. Thankfully, Emma doesn't move toward her.

"You still don't want to talk," Emma says.

"Finally, something you understand."

"Don't do that."

She grips the edge of the bench until her knuckles are white before she asks, "Do what?"

"Snap at me. I haven't done anything wrong."

"You're here. That's what's wrong."

"So, what? I was just supposed to let you die?"

"Yes," she says before she swallows a lump in her throat.

"Bullshit," Emma firmly replies.

She doesn't want to look at the blonde. She can hear the anger in the other woman's voice and really doesn't want to argue. "Please, just...leave me alone."

"No." Emma takes her by the chin and gently turns her head so they can see each other.

She keeps her eyes averted and swallows again. The lump remains in her throat, which starts to feel scratchy and tense. She's about to cry and that's the last thing she wants to do in front of Emma.

"Look at me," Emma quietly requests.

She shakes her head in response, but it's not good enough for the blonde who then leans in and steals a kiss.

She has a chance to deepen the kiss and see how far Emma is willing to go, just as she had started to do earlier, but she pulls away and turns her head. She doesn’t want to look at Emma, and part of her just _can’t_ look at the blonde.

“Regina,” Emma exhales and slides closer to her on the bench. The younger woman rests her chin on Regina’s shoulder and the brunette closes her eyes and sighs.

“Don’t,” she weakly protests and turns her head further away.

“Is it me,” Emma quietly asks and although Regina can’t see the younger woman, she’s sure she hears the sadness in her voice. “Am I doing something to annoy or…hurt you?”

She tries to keep her breathing steady even though the attempt is futile. Her mind keeps replaying the moment of her sacrifice over and over again while her heart aches for the other woman that saved her first, long before taking on the darkness in her place. Because of that, Regina was willing to do almost anything in Camelot to protect the blonde.

But just when things seemed to be moving forward for them, Hook came between them. It’s not like she didn’t demand Emma use her magic to heal Robin when she thought he would die, but Emma had done it. Because Regina had _asked her_. That should have meant something, but…maybe she’d pushed too hard.

“Regina,” Emma says more forcefully that time.

She sucks in a breath and opens her eyes just as Emma replaces the chin on her shoulder with a hand and turns her so they’re facing each other again. When she meets Emma’s gaze, she sees blonde hair and pale skin wrapped in black wardrobe with those red lips, and she sees it all through watery eyes. Her vision is blurred and the colors she sees in the blue-lit space of the garden—which isn’t all that lively to her in that moment—blend together like rain on a windshield or lens. Her lips start to quiver from the effort it takes to hold back her tears, but when she finally blinks she cries anyway.

“Hey,” Emma softly says and brushes a thumb across her wet cheek. “What is it? What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” she lies, badly, and sniffles. She tenses up and tries to stand, but Emma grabs her by the wrist and stops her from walking away.

“ _Talk_ to me,” the blonde insists with wide and pleading eyes.

She huffs and unintentionally squeezes out a few more tears before she answers, “I _can’t_ go back. Not with you.”

“What? Why the hell not?”

“I just can’t,” is all she says and she immediately sees Emma isn’t happy with that vague explanation. “You don’t get to ask me why.”

Emma tugs on her wrist when she tries to leave again and she glares as best she can while tears continue to slide down her face.

“Let go of me,” she demands.

“Not until we talk. I came here for you. Henry’s waiting for you. Don’t tell me I don’t get to ask why because I think I deserve to know. I risked a lot by coming here. And the longer it takes for you to come with me, the more I have to lose.”

“What do you mean,” she asks and furrows her brow.

Emma shakes her head, but surprisingly doesn’t let go or even loosen her grip on Regina’s wrist. “Never mind. Just…why can’t you leave? What’s holding you back?”

“How _can_ I leave? I’m _dying_ , Emma.”

“You don’t have to be,” the younger woman exclaims with frustration. “Geez, Hades said it was gonna be difficult. I told him he had no idea and he laughed. Apparently, he knows about what to expect from you more than I do.”

“I suppose you overestimated me and what I would do once you got here.”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t. I’m _not_. You’re a _fighter_.”

“Not anymore,” she sadly confesses.

“Bullshit.”

She instantly looks up from the spot on the ground she’d recently focused on for a good portion of their conversation and stares at Emma with a slack jaw.

“What are you afraid of, Regina?”

And if she wasn’t shocked and thrown by Emma’s single word argument before, she was completely floored by the blonde’s ability to see right through her and get to the heart of the problem in no time at all.

“Stop,” she pleads, just as weakly as before while she closes her eyes again. “Just leave it alone.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You have before and you can do it again.”

“What,” Emma asks with confusion and a little offense. “What are you talking about?”

“Forget it,” she quickly replies and yanks her hand out of the other woman’s grasp. Finally, she’s able to walk away and makes a hasty exit from the garden.

She goes straight to the bar and asks Meg for a shot. The woman looks like she wants to ask a question, but it seems she thinks better of it and serves her without a word. Before she can get her shot of tequila, however, she sees Cruella hanging off Cora’s arm as the thinner woman in leather pants has some kind of lover’s quarrel with Ursula.

Thankfully, Meg hands her the shot a few seconds later and she looks away from the trio to tip back the glass.

She asks for another with a wave of her hand and tells Meg, “Keep them coming.” She finishes her second shot when she sees Emma walk in from the garden. She freezes as she waits for Emma to approach, but the blonde stares at her for a moment with sad eyes before she heads for the stairs and disappears behind the purple door.

Meg sets a few more shots in front of her and looks back and forth between her and the self-closing purple door. The bartender raises an eyebrow at her and it mirrors the look she gives other people when she’s calling them out on their flaws. Mostly Emma, but not always and not lately.

She downs the third shot and everything gets a little fuzzy. Her vision is blurry and the room starts to spin, so she closes her eyes and takes a minute before she opens them again. She starts laughing as she thinks about her current situation and how she came to be in that situation at all. It’s not funny in the slightest, but the liquor puts a spin on things and makes her misery a little more entertaining.

She laughs and laughs and doesn’t notice that Meg doesn’t give her a seventh shot. She barely even registers the hand on her arm or how she gets into her room. She’s on her bed and feeling a little disoriented, but she’s fine. She’s hurting a bit on the inside, but it’s her own damn fault so she can push it down and ignore it. She can let the tequila do what it’s supposed to do and she can wallow later. She can hate herself later. For now, she strips out of her bra and pants and adopts a very Emma style of sleeping. And the next time her head hits the pillow, after several long minutes of struggling to get out of clothes as they bunched up and trapped her during the removal process, she’s passed out for the evening.

* * *

_She says goodbye to Emma. She holds her hand and stares so deeply into crying green eyes as she gives Emma their son and all her memories. She’s giving Emma everything and, although it’s exceedingly difficult to leave Henry, it’s effortless in that moment to give the blonde the biggest part of herself._

_As she gives Emma all that she has, she’s also giving the younger woman and their son a happy ending; and that has to be enough, or she’ll never be able to let go. She’ll want to keep holding Emma’s hand and they’ll all suffer at Pan’s feet in the new Neverland. Because at least they’ll be together._

_But that’s selfish. She won’t do that to them. They deserve better. She was never meant to be happy, but Emma and Henry should be. And they can be. Without her._

_In the blink of an eye, she’s watching that eyesore yellow Bug drive off with the two people that matter most to her in it._

_And then the smoke consumes her and brings her back to the Enchanted Forest. She meets Robin, and slowly she accepts what she’s lost and that she has to move on. After several months, she just needs to start over. She’ll never forget, but she needs to heal. So she thinks about Henry, and occasionally about Emma, but she does it to remind herself of the person she’s become. She’s not a villain, not the Evil Queen, and Emma and Henry are okay._

_Just as the pain in her bruised heart starts to get easier to bear, the year in the Enchanted Forest goes missing from her mind and she’s back in Storybrooke only knowing that she watched Emma and Henry ride off into the sunset without her._

_Hook’s the one to bring them back and she thinks it’s possible, all the what-could-have-beens, are possible._

_But they aren’t._

_And then so many things happen after Emma returns, and suddenly she’s the Dark One._

_They’re in Camelot and Emma needs her, but maybe she still needs Emma, too. Except Emma’s all over Hook and it’s not…she has no right. She’s with Robin and she shouldn’t want or expect much from Emma. It’s insane, but there was something. There was—_

_“They don’t understand me. Not like you do.”_

_“Henry brought me to Storybrooke to bring back the happy endings. My job’s not done until I do that for everyone. Including you.”_

_“I’m in.”_

_“You’ve worked too hard to have your happiness destroyed.”_

The tears are hot as they slide down her cheeks and she turns on her side before the sobs start. She curls in on herself and cries.

“Regina,” her mother quietly starts to speak and she feels the bed dip behind her. She sniffles.

“What can I do,” Cora asks after a few seconds as though she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it.

“You can’t help,” she demands and pulls the pillow further against her face.

“Are you sure about that? You won’t even talk to me, dear. How do you know I can’t help?”

“Experience. That’s how I know.”

Cora sighs and places a hand on her shoulder, which instantly makes her recoil.

"I'm sorry you—" Cora begins to say, but she cuts her off.

" _Don't_ say anything," she growls in the most warning tone she can manage, her voice as wet as her eyes. She sniffles again and scoots away from her mother before she curls further in on herself.

Cora seems to still for only a second before she concedes and removes her hand from Regina's shoulder. She's slightly jostled as the mattress dips one way and then the other as her mother repositions herself on the bed and slides under the covers. The lights go out and the room is plunged into darkness like it usually is, like Regina usually feels.

In the dark and the quiet, the spinning stops and Regina's able to softly cry herself to sleep.

* * *

Over the next few days, she wakes up next to her mother—which is only slightly disturbing after the first time it happened, especially given her hangover and near lack of clothing—and she sees Emma down at the bar on occasion, but they don't talk. The blonde gives her big puppy dog eyes for a moment or two and then looks away. Emma doesn't wave or smile or approach her at all, and she supposes that's fair. Regina seemingly rejected her after both times they'd kissed, so it wasn't like Emma owed it to her to keep coming back, even though that's exactly what she expected the younger woman to do.

It's unhealthy for her to think Emma will push her harder, come at her again with logic or maybe even some kind of emotion that she's only recently started to show. If she keeps depending on Emma to make the next move, they might not get anywhere, especially when she'd been the one to pull away. Emma isn’t the problem. She is, although it stems from a place of her own hurt. It comes from what Emma's done in the past. It comes from what she's witnessed and felt, and just like she knows not to trust her mother with matters of the heart—unless she’s trying to steal them in a very literal way—she knows from experience that what happened in Emma's room, and again in the garden, is just a fluke. It's a one-off. It's something that was tested and briefly explored, but it's not something that will last. It's not enough.

Though she's not entirely conscious of it, her heart slows every time she gets out of bed in Hell. She feels groggy every morning, and it only gets worse the longer she's here. That's as much as she understands, and even the reason as to why she feels that way is still a mystery to her. But it's with the knowledge that she feels worse every day that she also knows she's too weak to go through everything all over again. She's too weak to grin and bear a different kind of loss, not of a life, but of hope and possibility. She doesn't quite know it yet, but her heart isn't strong enough to endure the pain of too many almosts and maybes and "we did it", "our magic", "our son", "together", "I'm with Regina." And then it all just goes away. Darkness coils around one of them and it's this huge spectacle. There's so much care behind the action and it speaks louder than any words...

But that's not what it is. It's not what Regina once thought it to be.

"And why should I have thought that's what it was," Regina asks with a furrowed brow and downturned lips when she's alone at the bar with Ursula. "Just because no one's ever done anything like that for me before doesn't mean it was something more than being a good friend. Because I never gave her any reason to lo- ...We were with other people."

She hears a light chuckle, almost inaudible, from Ursula and when she looks up to see if she heard right, she sees a smirk on the woman's face as the woman approaches the bar. She glares at the Sea Witch, or as she still sometimes refers to her in her mind, the Sea _Bitch_. "What?"

"It's amusing," Ursula replies.

"What about any of this is amusing?"

Ursula shakes her head and tries not to laugh again. "You think she needs a reason to love you. She doesn't. It just happens sometimes."

"But she doesn't love me."

"Has she told you that?"

"No, but she doesn't have to."

Ursula rolls her eyes and slides onto the stool next to her before she flags down the bartender and holds up two fingers. "Regina...do you want to know how long it took her to decide whether or not she wanted to risk her life coming to get you?"

She looks up again when she hears the words "risk her life." Her eyes widen before she asks, "There was a risk?"

"Of course there was," Ursula says. "Neither of us is dead, but we came to Hell anyway. I didn’t know much about what it would take to get here, and all the information she had about this place came from me."

Her mouth slowly opens as she realizes that Emma probably did another idiotic thing to save her. Again.

"I can't speak for her, but if you want my opinion I'd say you mean more to her than you think."

"That...doesn't mean much."

"Regina, dear, it means there's someone in this world who'd go to Hell and back for you, in every meaning of the phrase," her mother cuts in as she approaches the bar with Cruella on her arm.

Ursula turns to look at the two of them, but almost immediately looks down at the floor and gulps. Something's on her mind, and she hasn't been extremely talkative since her arrival. She's fought with Cruella at the bar and disappeared into her room with the dog killer, but it doesn't look like much has been resolved. Regina would rather focus on that problem than her own, but Ursula doesn't say anything about it. The woman just listened to her rant, but didn't share anything about herself, even though it's clear she's going through something as well.

"If you would let me _talk_ to you, I could have explained this all by now," Cora adds.

"There's nothing to explain," she insists.

"She has a choice," Ursula speaks up again with her eyes off the floor and focused a little more sharply on Regina. "And right now she's staying. That should be enough to convince you to talk to her."

She doesn't know what Ursula's trying to tell her, but there's something more to what the woman's saying. She can feel it. She can see it in Ursula's eyes as the other woman stares at her with insistence.

She looks at the three women around her before her eyes glance across the room from one end to the other. Music plays and people dance and sway. And then there's Emma.

Emma's sitting on the edge of a stage and she's looking down at something on her finger. A ring. She can't tell what kind of ring, but it's a ring that sits almost heavily on her and weighs her down.

The blonde's legs are tucked beneath her, cross-legged on the floor of the empty stage and she twists the thick metal around her finger a few times before she closes her eyes and takes a breath. Regina watches, curious and fascinated, and waits to see what else Emma will do. Only a few more seconds pass before the younger woman covers the entire ring with her other hand and then pulls. She removes the ring and holds it up to appraise it. She seemingly takes stock of what she holds and Regina then gets a better look at the ring, which she knows she's seen before, but isn't sure where she's seen it.

It doesn't really matter when Emma sets it down and then slides off the stage, leaving it behind to make her way toward the garden.

She waits a moment before she heads over to the stage and takes a closer look at the ring. She picks it up and holds it in the light as she moves it left and right, most of her focus on the bright red gem in the center. After a few seconds, her eyes sweep over the sides of the ring to inspect the etchings. It's not a ring from the Land Without Magic, and it's as rough as she remembers when she last touched it decades ago in the Enchanted Forest.

Her eyes widen in realization and she looks over her shoulder at the closed door to the garden. She then glances at Ursula at the bar and sees the woman dip her head as she lifts her drink with a knowing and encouraging expression on her face. Ursula takes a sip of her drink after she's given Regina the signal to go after Emma. At least that's what Regina understood the gesture to mean.

She doesn't hold off any longer and drops the ring as she makes hurried steps toward the garden. She throws the door open as soon as she reaches it and immediately looks around the place before she's even taken more than a small step inside. She doesn't see Emma, or anyone else for that matter, but she hears the waterfall in the distance before a chill settles over her. Her skin prickles with goosebumps and her stomach churns. She has a bad feeling that she can't shake.

"Emma," she calls out with a furrowed brow and shaky voice.

There's no response and the feeling low in her gut doesn't abate. She steps further into the garden and looks left and right as she approaches the concrete bench, but there's still no sign of Emma. It's like the woman hadn't even come into the garden at all.

Until she hears a splash.

She whips her head to her right and sees the water beneath the waterfall ripple. All the air in her lungs leaves her and in an instant, she sprints to the edge of the deep water. She peers down and tries to see through it and confirm her fear that Emma jumped in, but she can't see anything for a while. The water is still rippling and it's too deep to get a clear image, but as soon as it starts to settle and the waves lessen she sees a black figure with light hair and pale skin.

"Emma!"

She doesn't think twice. She just takes that leap and plunges into the depths of the cold water. She cringes the entire way down as she fights off the urge to scream about how freezing it is. It gets easier the closer she gets to Emma, who's just sitting near the bottom of the cove, her arms limply extended above her head. The only sign of life are the few and far between bubbles that escape her nose.

When she's almost at eye level with the blonde, she sees Emma has her eyes squeezed shut and the younger woman's expression makes Regina think she's been kicked in the gut. Emma isn't peaceful or happy or relaxed. She's in pain. Immediately, she hurts for Emma and doesn't hesitate to reach out.

She grabs the other woman by the wrist and Emma opens her eyes. They look at each other through the bubbles they both make underwater as they exhale through their noses and suddenly nothing else matters but that moment. There's so much Regina's been focused on since her arrival only a short time ago, and she refused to think about anything else, even after Emma showed up, but she should have stopped. She should have seen. Emma had come all that way for her, but there were things she had to deal with just as Regina had things to deal with. They weren't any different from each other, except Regina had been too blind to see it until now. Emma hadn't been blind at all, despite not being able to figure out the reason of Regina's reluctance to give in to whatever they had.

As she stares into those sad green eyes, all Regina thinks about then is what Emma needs, what Emma's going through, and most importantly getting her out of the water.

So she tugs on the wrist she has in her grasp and pulls Emma close before wrapping an arm around the younger woman's slender waist and dragging her up to the surface. As soon as both of their heads are above water, they gasp. Emma, however, is the first to break and she starts to cry.

She sobs and expels frustrated grunts and groans and then yells to the sky, to no one; just lets it out. Regina starts to cry as she watches Emma release all that pain and anger the blonde has held back ever since she became the Dark One, aside from a few moments in Camelot. She hugs her a little tighter and pulls her a little closer as they tread water together, their legs occasionally entwining below the surface as they scissor-kick to stay afloat.

Regina gives her another moment of lashing out before she starts to bring them to the edge of the water. Once Regina's able to get a hand on the edge to hoist herself out of the water, Emma sniffles and coughs and places her hand on the ground to support herself. A few seconds later, Emma pulls herself out of the water and Regina waits before following after her, in case the blonde falls. But Emma doesn't fall and has enough strength left inside her to hold out a hand to Regina. She lets the younger woman pull her out, and they sigh and sag against each other when they both sit on the water's edge.

"Everyone I care about leaves," Emma quietly confesses.

Regina doesn't say anything and gives Emma room to continue should she want to, and apparently she does.

"I didn't want him to die because I couldn’t lose another one. But...I should have let him go. He left me anyway. He's not the same."

"It's not your fault," Regina tells her. "He chose to give in to the darkness in a way you never did."

"The pull was strong and it's just too easy to let it take over," Emma tries to argue.

"And when has taking the easy way ever been a good thing in our lives? I was there, Emma. I told him he didn't have to be this way, you told him to stop. He _chose_ to stay lost, to remain the villain of the story. That's not on you. It's _never_ been on you."

Emma shakes her head. "What if it had been Robin? Or Daniel or...or Henry? Would you still say the same?"

"No," she answers in seconds. She doesn't even have to think about it. "I'd be blaming myself, too. And I would be a pain in the ass and I wouldn't believe anything you told me, even though my head knows what you're saying it right. My heart just wouldn't feel it."

"What would I be saying to you?"

"The same thing I'm telling you."

Emma shakes her head again and stutters a few times as she struggles to find the right way to say whatever she's trying to say. "How do you know our roles would be reversed?"

"Because whether I ask for you to do it or not, you're always right here. Even when I was still working things out and struggling to be better, you were on that damn bench trying to pull me back. You tried to get me out of my own head when I stood beside my mother and I didn't listen to you then either, but you were there. Just like you're here."

"I'm not the one who leaves. I never was. I was always tossed out and around and eventually that just became a part of who I was. I was the girl who left before I could be kicked to the curb."

"Until Henry."

Emma nods and sniffles as a sad smile appears on her face and new tears fall. "That is one amazing kid we've got, Regina." She lowers her voice before she adds, "Please don't make him an orphan."

"He won't be. You just have to let me go."

"No. I won't lose another person. I'm _not_ losing you. I don't care what happens when we get out of here, but I'm not leaving without you. And Henry knows that. So tell me why you won't come back to us. What's keeping you here?"

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she leans further into Emma's side. "You might not care what happens if we get out of here, but I do," she slowly admits.

"You say that like you expect everything to be horrible if you live."

"It just might be," she replies.

"Whatever happens, you know you'll always have Henry and me. You said it yourself."

"But do I really have you?" The words come out of her mouth before she can even think about whether she should say them. She isn't sure how obvious her feelings are in the phrasing of her question, but she feels like she's bared herself, heart and soul, to Emma.

She feels a hand slide up the back of her neck and tangle in her wet hair. It surprises her and her breath catches in her throat before she turns to look at Emma and pulls back a little so she can make eye contact. The blonde has never looked more sure of herself, or sincerer, than when she says, "You have me. Any way you want me."

 


	7. Chapter 7

She closes the door to Emma's room just as Emma makes it to her dresser. Regina's never made much use of her own, but the blonde has been there for maybe a day or less and already has spare clothes put away.

"Expect to be here long?" Regina asks and watches Emma pull out a tank top and shorts. It's not something a Dark One would wear, and it's far from the all black ensemble the younger woman currently wears, but Regina doesn't mind. She's happy to see a glimpse of the old Emma; the tough pain in the ass Emma, with her abundance of tanks and V-necks paired with bold colored leather jackets and form fitting denim.

"No, I just... They came with the room. Hades just said to take a look around and I did and this is what I found."

"Clothes that fit your preferred style back home? That's not a coincidence, is it," she says the question like a statement, sure that she already knows the answer.

"I guess this is just another one of his ways of taking care of the people that end up here. He told me when I first got in that he's usually expecting people. He didn't expect me."

"No one ever does," Regina mumbles as she thinks about her own situation with Emma and how she hadn't expected the blonde either.

"You say something," Emma asks and Regina blinks a couple times before she shakes her head and looks up again at the other woman.

Looking up isn't a mistake, really, but she wishes she hadn't done it because Emma's standing in front of the dresser stripped down to a black bra and her black pants as she unfolds a dry, clean shirt in front of herself. A lot of muscle and fair skin is on display, and Regina gulps as she tries, and fails, to keep her eyes from sliding down Emma's toned figure.

"Here," Emma says and flashes a small smile before she tosses Regina the shirt she assumed Emma would wear herself. "Do you want pants or shorts?"

"I..." Regina's speechless, even though she finally manages to keep her eyes fixated on Emma's face and only allows the briefest of glances at her collarbone, but no lower than that. "I'm fine. Thank you."

Emma already has her pants tugged down to her ankles by the time she gets her words out, and that's when the real challenge starts. Her eyes immediately go to the lacy black panties Emma wears and she subconsciously licks her lips.

"You're not fine. You're wet."

 _You have no idea_ , she thinks.

"And shivering," Emma says a little loudly like it's some kind of important newsflash before she swiftly crosses the room with a pair of sweatpants in hand along with her own shorts.

Before Regina has time to process what's happening, Emma's taking off her pants and yanking her shirt over her head until she's standing in front of Emma in only her bra and underwear, which is a deep purple that almost looks black due to being soaked through from the waterfall.

She tries to cover herself from view, as if that's what Emma's focused on when she knows damn well the only thing the younger woman is concerned with is her health and comfort. Emma probably isn't even giving her a second look, isn't trying not to stare at her not-quite-flat stomach or her well-rounded ass. Emma's attention is set on getting her into other clothes, not keeping her undressed.

When Emma's done helping her into the sweatpants, she puts a hand on the blonde's shoulder and gives it a small squeeze. She doesn't get a response from the younger woman, who then starts to move up her body and attempt to get her into the tank top. But as soon as Emma is level with her chest, Regina cups the side of the other woman's face and strokes her thumb across her cheekbone.

"Stop," she softly says. "I'm fine."

Emma doesn't say anything, but Regina knows her well enough to know that she's ready to drop the subject. Regina knows her so well that she sees the flicker in green eyes and instantly recognizes it as her lie detector activating. She allows the blonde to study her face, her eyes and the emotion that's within them.

"You're lying," Emma insists.

"I'm not."

"Regina, I always know when you're lying."

She doesn't respond to that and instead just grabs the shirt from Emma's hands and pulls it down over the blonde's head. "You don't always have to be the one to make sacrifices," she whispers. She moves the tank top over Emma's arms and after a few seconds, Emma pokes her arms through the sleeves.

"You took a blade for me," Emma mentions. "Haven't you made enough sacrifices?"

"I don’t keep score and you shouldn't either."

"Regina--"

"Don't start," she admonishes. "You're so concerned about me that you haven't even focused the tiniest bit of attention on yourself."

Emma opens her mouth, likely to protest, but she doesn't let her.

"You're upset," Regina adds. "About Hook. You still haven't dealt with that loss yet."

"I'm sure according to you it shouldn't feel like a loss. After what he did to you, I can't imagine you thought he was ever capable of changing."

"After all that _I've_ done, I'm probably the only person, aside from you, who should have believed that was possible. But your relationship with Hook has nothing to do with me. You thought he was better and then you found out he was only hiding his true nature when he was with you, like a dog on a leash."

Emma cringes and gulps while she averts her eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But you should. If you don't, you're not dealing with it and you need to deal with it to move on."

"I came here," Emma looks up again, her eyes fierce with a confidence she hasn't seen in years. "I didn't let him ruin my chances of saving you. I didn't let him get in the way of getting you back.

"Don't you get it, Regina? All I care about is you."

She gasps as the words echo in her head.

_"Being Queen means nothing. All I care about is you."_

That time she feels the shiver that Emma so clearly sees just before Emma pushes everything aside once again for her.

Emma rubs her hands up and down her arms and guides her to the bed. She's gently pushed back onto the mattress and falls almost horizontally on top of the duvet, but Emma moves quickly and slides her beneath the covers. The younger woman climbs in next to her and wraps them up like a burrito as she curls up close beside Regina.

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes as she shivers again when she feels Emma's cold, wet hair, still pulled back in a bun, touch her bare shoulder. Her bra strap does little to protect her from the slight chill, so she squirms on her back and it prompts Emma to tighten her hold. She's bundled up beneath the covers and wrapped up in Emma and she's not supposed to be the one being taken care of right now. But Emma feels too good against her and she doesn't realize how tired she is until she starts to relax with Emma beside her.

She turns her head and her nose almost brushes against Emma's, but the blonde seems to sense her movements just before she makes them so they're able to avoid collision. That is until Regina's eyes lock on Emma's a moment before they drop to tantalizing lips and she closes the gap between them and kisses her.

Emma slides a little more on top of her, a leg stretched across her waist, and cautiously deepens the kiss. She moves a hand over Regina's stomach and toward her breasts, which causes Regina to arch her back and shudder a bit.

"Sorry," Emma quietly says as she breaks away for a moment to look into her eyes. She looks like she's trying to find any hesitation before she moves forward.

"I can't," she says and makes it easy on Emma to find that hesitation.

"Why not? You're still...you're still afraid of something? Of me?"

"I... It's not that I'm _afraid_ of you," she begins.

"But you don't trust me." As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Emma looks hurt.

"I don't...want to lose you," she barely says above a whisper.

"How could you...?"

"I can't watch you walk away again."

"Again?"

"You went to New York. And when you came back... You chose him. You didn't want me, but..." She doesn't finish her sentence. She can't finish it because she's already admitted so much. _Too_ much.

"You were with Robin."

"I couldn't remember an entire year in the Enchanted Forest and he felt familiar. You remembered everything by then. Emma, you had my heart. You had my whole world. How could you think I wanted anything--any _one--_ else?"

"I didn't know! You don't...You don't get it. You gave me everything and all I needed to make it right, to make it fit, was you. But you didn't... You were with him and I thought that was it."

"We've never even started, but we'll never be over. Will we," she doesn't have to ask. It's a statement that she knows is true, but how Emma answers will determine if she's the only one that truly feels this way.

"Not a chance," Emma replies and runs her fingers up her sternum and across her collarbone.

She gasps and squirms again beneath Emma's touch. "I don't want to be a rebound," she confesses.

Emma chuckles and presses her forehead into Regina's temple. "You've never been and never will be a rebound. No one else compares to you."

"Pretty words, but how do I know you mean—"

Emma rolls completely on top of her and slips between her legs. The action alone silences Regina, but Emma goes one step further and says, "I mean it."

Emma leans in and kisses her until neither of them can breathe. When she pulls away for air, she stares down at Regina with an intensity that could compete with Regina's fireballs. "I love you, Regina."

Regina's breath hitches and she takes a moment to herself, her eyes still locked on Emma's, before she places her hands on the younger woman's forearms and runs them up to her elbows and biceps. She exhales and feels tears prickle her eyes, blinking them away. When she opens her eyes again, she's pleasantly surprised to see chalky white hair magically transform to its familiar golden blonde. 

Her hair isn't the only thing that changes. Emma's face is less sparkly and her lips have returned to their natural color. Her outfit remains the same as it was before the metamorphosis, a tank top and her lacy panties, but everything else is how it should be. Emma's been stripped of the Dark One style she adopted when she took on the darkness and now looked every bit like the person she was when she barreled into Regina's life and changed everything. 

"You did it," she says with nothing but awe and adoration in her eyes. 

Emma looks herself over and notices the differences Regina was fortunate enough to witness as it happened. The blonde is shocked, but when she looks at Regina again she's relieved. Relieved, but not happy. 

"You should be thrilled," Regina tells her.

"I...I would be...if I knew I hadn't set my heart free only for it to be crushed."

Regina furrows her brow and frowns as she tries to understand why Emma would be worried about that. It only takes a moment before she realizes she hasn't said anything in response to Emma's immensely vulnerable confession. She was so distracted and fascinated by the transformation that she forgot the most important thing about their current situation. 

She grabs Emma's hips and rolls them over so she's on top and hovers above the woman long enough to say, "I love you, Emma. You have no idea how much."

Emma licks her lips and Regina's attention is pulled to the younger woman's mouth. She can't say anything else until she kisses those lips. So Regina leans in and claims them with fierce devotion. The kiss is so slow and deep that there's no mistaking Regina's feelings or intention. 

When she finally pulls back, Regina adds, "But I'd like to try to show you."

"Show me," Emma agrees and slips her hands over Regina's hips and then into her sweatpants and panties. She pulls them down the brunette's backside and grabs handfuls of her round, squeezable cheeks. "But let me take care of you first."

Regina whimpers and tips her head back as she rolls her hips into Emma. She allows the blonde to grip her ass and keep her close as Emma takes her time to slide the sweatpants and panties down the backs of her thighs. She wants to protest, insist that Emma's put other people before herself for far too long, but Emma has barely started to touch her and yet knows just the right way to do it. She knows how to make Regina weak in the knees and crumbles her resolve and that should probably bother her, but it doesn't. She feels safe and good, so good. She's with Emma and nothing has every felt as right as this so it's no surprise when the word, "Okay," tumbles past her parted lips after only a few seconds. 

Emma tugs the pants and underwear down to her knees and Regina lifts herself off the bed so Emma can finish undressing her. The blonde has her completely bare in no time at all and she kicks the discarded clothing off the edge of the bed before she reaches behind herself and unclasps her bra. She pulls it down her front and tosses it aside like her sweatpants, then pauses when she catches Emma staring with parted lips and hungry eyes. 

She smiles before she leans in and kisses Emma again. She trails kisses along her jaw and down to her neck. She teasingly flicks her tongue over Emma's pulse point before fully kissing it and then sucking at the hot skin.

Emma moans and exposes more of her neck, which Regina is grateful for and wastes no time to devour while she enjoys Emma's hands sliding all over her body. 

She feels those strong yet soft hands run up and down her sides before they're moved up again to cup and tease her breasts. She gasps and arches into Emma's hands as the blonde's thumbs slip between their bodies and stroke both of her nipples. The initial contact is enough to harden them and Regina puffs out a breath against the other woman's neck before she nibbles on Emma's earlobe in response. 

Emma pushes a fistful of brunette hair off her shoulder and slides a hand down to her hip. The blonde grips her firmly and pulls her body close before flipping them back over. Emma then tosses a leg over one of hers so they each have a thigh pressed to each other's sex. The barely-there friction is unbearable but desired and makes it harder to breathe. 

Regina anticipates more, but Emma takes her time and instead focuses her attention on Regina's neck.  With one side of her neck and a shoulder exposed before Emma flipped them, the blonde dips her head and peppers the bare skin with kisses before she teases a few spots with her tongue. It doesn't take long before Emma hits just the right spot—a little below her ear—and elicits a moan from her. 

Emma repeats her actions, sticking to the one spot that got the biggest reaction out of her, and gently bites down. 

Regina gasps and arches into Emma as she slides her hands along Emma's arms. She turns her head away to expose more of her neck to Emma, and the younger woman nips and licks along corded muscles until she has her lips wrapped around a stiff and sensitive nipple. 

"Emma," she sighs and runs a hand up the woman's back and tangles a hand in blonde hair at the base of Emma's neck, her hair still pulled into a bun. 

When her fingers brush against the elastic band, she tugs and carefully unwinds Emma's bun until her soft blonde tresses cascade down her back and fan out around her face. A few strands tickle Regina's upper body and she writhes beneath Emma in response to the teasing, feather-light contact.

Regina moves her hands down to the hem of the tank top and starts to peel it off, but she only makes it up to Emma's chest before the younger woman pulls back and takes over the remainder of the task. 

"Underwear too," she breathlessly tells Emma who complies first by removing her bra.

Regina sets her hands on Emma's torso as soon as the shirt is off and pushes them up to fondle perky breasts and rosy nipples. She leans forward and sits up once Emma has her thumbs curled inside the waistband of her panties, ready to push them down her legs. She pushes forward and knocks Emma onto her back so the blonde's head rests at the foot of the bed, their feet pointed at the headboard. 

She pushes Emma's hands away from the last piece of clothing between them and slowly starts to take them off herself. 

Emma's chest heaves as she watches Regina bring the underwear down to her knees and Regina grins before she leans in and kisses each of Emma's thighs, then pulls the panties further down her legs. "Tease," Emma says and clamps a fist around the comforter beneath her. 

"Not a tease," she insists. "I just want this to last."

Regina throws the panties somewhere and doesn't care where they land. Her eyes zero in on Emma and that's her only focus, especially when the blonde touches her shoulder and then her cheek, once she has Regina's attention. 

"It'll last for as long as we remember it. No matter what happens after," Emma assures her.

Regina's hand glides up Emma's leg as she shifts between the younger woman's thighs and she doesn't stop herself when her knuckles graze wet folds. She moves her fingers up and down and parts Emma's lower lips with each stroke. 

Emma's hips buck toward her hand and she whines each time Regina grazes her clit with almost no pressure at all. "Not fair. You first," Emma manages to say before she grabs the back of Regina's thigh and runs her fingers up and down her inner thigh to tease the woman's heated sex. 

Regina bites her lip, but leans closer to Emma and takes a nipple into her mouth just as she pushes two fingers inside the other woman. 

Emma moans and stills her hand on Regina's thigh, but she digs her nails into olive skin where she stops. Emma rolls her hips to meet Regina's fingers each time she plunges inside, the rhythm steady and unrushed. She shudders when she exhales and both women realize she's been holding her breath for several seconds. 

Regina stops while she has her fingers embedded inside Emma and forces the younger woman to look at her due to stimulation deprivation. When green eyes are on her, she says, "Relax."

"I am," Emma argues. "It's just...intense."

"I'm not going very fast."

"I know. It's...it's emotional. This means... Aside from our kid, this means everything to me."

"Are you worried it doesn't mean the same to me?"

"I don't... How can I be sure? I was so sure with...him. And then—"

Regina slides her fingers out of Emma and falls onto her side next to the blonde on the bed. She leans in and kisses her, slow and chaste before she takes one of Emma's hands and brings it up to her mouth when they break apart. She kisses the younger woman's knuckles one by one and then gazes into Emma's eyes while she lowers their hands and guides Emma's to her own sex. 

Her breath catches as she navigates Emma's fingers through her folds and then breathily commands, "Two fingers. Now."

Emma complies and Regina guides her wrist to set the speed. Regina bends her knee and slides it over Emma's hip as she positions herself at just the right angle to give Emma's fingers more room to reach within her. 

Regina keeps her eyes open and fixed on the blonde as their hands keep up a slightly faster pace between her thighs and she says, "You can be sure because you always know when I'm lying."

Emma moves in closer, both women fully on their sides then. Her nose is almost close enough to brush against Regina's and their ragged breaths mingle in the limited space between them. 

"Am I lying, Emma?"

Emma pushes the heel of her palm against Regina's clit between thrusts. Regina moans and tips her head back a bit. She meets Emma's fingers with a gentle but effective roll of her hips and keeps Emma's fingers moving at a mostly consistent pace that only falters when a ripple of pleasure courses through her, like it does with Emma's palm against her clit. 

"No," Emma answers and closes the small distance between them to kiss just under her jaw. 

Regina hums with every few kisses against her jaw and throat and after a moment, she feels Emma speed up their pace on her own. She lets go of Emma's wrist and almost as soon as she does, Emma rolls her onto her back as she thrusts deep inside her. 

Regina closes her eyes and moans loudly as her thigh twitches against Emma's side. 

"Can you look at me," Emma tentatively asks. "I just...need you here."

Regina opens her eyes and nods, most likely creating pesky little knots in her hair as she rubs it against the comforter. "I'm here," she vocalizes as best she can, her voice a little strained and breathy. "I'm with you. Only you, Emma."

Emma joins their free hands and threads their fingers before she presses down on Regina's until it starts to sink into the mattress. She uses their joined hands as leverage to keep her above Regina, and while it's a little heavy to have a good portion of Emma's weight pushing down on her hand, it doesn't hurt. It makes her feel more connected, in fact, and Emma's being careful. Emma uses her own forearm on the bed as her main support and Regina's hand is mostly there to keep her rooted in the moment. She isn't trapped and she isn't worried or scared. She feels good. 

Emma presses a thumb to her clit and swirls it in quick circles as best she can and uses her weight to put more of herself into each thrust. Regina feels her, all of her. It's not just the physical and it's not just in Emma's eyes that she feels every part of this woman. 

She clamps her knee against Emma's hip, despite the shared sweat between them that makes it slip with each movement and claws at Emma's hair and back the closer she gets to climax. 

"Emma," she starts to chant between unintelligent sounds while her walls flutter around the younger woman's fingers. "Emma, Emma, Em- _ma_!" 

She tenses around and against Emma, her muscles locked as she cries out in orgasm. She keeps her eyes open as long as she can, but can't fight the ecstasy that overwhelms her and eventually loses the fight. She keeps her eyes closed as she recovers, but she meets Emma's soft and loving gaze as soon as the intensity passes. 

Emma doesn't wait more than a few seconds before she crashes their lips together in a hot and heavy kiss, her fingers still buried inside Regina. When Regina starts to squirm, Emma starts up a slower pace inside her. 

Regina squeezes Emma's hand and whimpers while Emma works her up again, slow and deep. She gulps and hears the sticky click of her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

Emma kisses her way down to her breasts and flicks and swirls her tongue over one nipple and then the other. Just after she feels Regina flutter against her again, she drops kisses down the brunette's torso to her lower abdomen. 

Regina's breath hitches as she bucks her hips into Emma and tangles a hand in blonde hair. 

Emma moves further down Regina's body and kisses her clit before she teases it mercilessly with her tongue. In less time than it took before, Regina trembles and crests over the edge with a sharp cry while she scrapes Emma’s scalp with her nails, her grip on Emma’s hair a little aggressive from the level of pleasure she feels.

She goes limp when Emma pulls out and tries to catch her breath while the blonde slowly crawls up her body with a smile.

Emma lets go of her hand and brushes damp hair out of her face as she says, “Incredible.”

Regina chuckles, still a little breathless so it’s mostly an exhale, and replies, “I think that’s supposed to be my line. I’ve barely touched you.”

“This was so much better,” Emma says and kisses her again.

“I don’t think you can accurately assess that until you know how it feels.”

“How what feels?”

“To be loved so thoroughly by Regina _fucking_ Mills,” she says with a grin.

“Oh, god,” Emma says with a hint of anticipation and excitement.

“It’s your Majesty,” she playfully corrects and the memory of Princess Leia being so friendly and informal in the Enchanted Forest of the past isn’t lost on either of them in that moment.

Emma smirks, amusement evident in her expression.

After a few seconds, Regina asks, “Do you trust me?”

The smirk and amusement fade, but only to be replaced with love. If Regina wasn’t on her back, she’s sure Emma’s soft and open expression would have knocked her off her feet.

Emma takes the hand she held earlier and holds it against her chest where her heart beats beneath heated and sweat-slicked skin. “With my life.”


	8. Chapter 8

She opens her eyes to a naked blonde splayed out beside her on the bed. Emma sleeps peacefully with an arm tucked under Regina’s body as they lay close together under the covers, which are pushed down to their waists. There’s an eyeful of bare breasts near Regina’s face and she can’t stop herself—doesn’t want to even if she could—from reaching out to touch them.

She presses her fingers to Emma’s sternum and trails them down over the swell of one of her breasts. When her fingertips skim over a nipple, Emma takes a deep breath and arches her back for a moment. She sees it as a way to feel a stronger touch and a way to stretch before waking up and it makes her smile. Seeing Emma in such a comfortable, relaxed state is a rare sight and it’s breathtaking, not just because of its rarity, but because it’s real. Emma’s here, and the what-ifs she’s imagined are possible.

Regina rolls closer to Emma and her front presses against the younger woman’s side as she settles partially on top of her. She lowers her head and places a chaste kiss on one of Emma’s breasts, waits for a response, and isn’t disappointed when the blonde writhes for a moment before popping her eyes open. Regina smiles at her and then slides up her body just enough to kiss her lips.

“Good morning,” she says with a raspy voice still rough from sleep.

“Mm, morning,” Emma replies with a blissful smile. “You look…happy.”

“I’m satisfied,” she smiles. “ _Very_ satisfied. I should be happy.”

“I don’t know,” Emma says with a small smile of her own. “I don’t think that’s the kind of happy you are.”

“There are different kinds of happiness?”

“I think so. Maybe it’s just my personal experience, but satisfied means I’m happy for the moment. The way you look right now, though? That’s the happiness you’ve worked hard for.”

“The same happiness you sacrificed yourself to ensure I didn’t have to keep fighting for,” Regina surmises.

“Exactly,” Emma softly says as she leans in.

Emma kisses her, short and sweet. It feels like a lazy morning after and it’s the kind of thing she wants to have with Emma for the rest of her life.

“Hey,” Emma’s voice pulls her out of a string of thoughts before they can fully take form in her mind. “What are you thinking?”

She stares at Emma for a moment and just basks in the simplicity of the moment, uncomplicated by various villains or any other life threatening issues. She looks deep into those gorgeous green eyes she could so easily lose herself in, and before she realizes it, she’s saying, “Move in with me.”

Emma’s jaw drops a little and she watches the younger woman search her face for the catch as though she’s waiting for Regina to correct herself and say she didn’t mean it, that it just came out because she’s feeling far too sentimental.

But she doesn’t say anything else. Regina sees Emma’s worries play out on the other woman’s face and knows it’s best to just say nothing and keep eye contact with her. Words from the previous night echo in her mind: _“Can you look at me? I just…need you here.”_

“We’d have to go home to move in together, right,” Emma asks.

“That would be ideal.”

“So, you’ll come back with me?”

“Yes.” That one word sets off a chain reaction of events and they start with a bright-eyed Emma kissing her fiercely.

Kissing spirals into a prolonged amount of time spent in bed before they finally manage to drag their tired bodies out of it and get dressed, but not before they shared an extensive shower in which their hands further explored each other and they held each other close. A few laughs and some small talk while they washed up, and Regina feels like she’s soaring through clouds, weightless. They may have been in Hell, but it wasn’t at all like religious talk would have people believe. The gods might have their heavenly afterlife somewhere above the physical plane of existence, but in that room in Hell, Regina couldn’t believe there was any better place to be, except for maybe at home with Emma _and_ Henry.

It’s a fairy tale, really and truly. It’s like one of those romantic true love stories Emma probably heard growing up, never believing it could happen to her after every family she had sent her away or abused her. Regina only hopes Emma agrees that even the magic they have in Storybrooke isn’t as magical as the way the feel when they’re powerless but together in another realm.

“Are you happy, Emma,” she asks just before they venture out of Emma’s room.

“The happiest I’ve ever been,” the blonde admits. “The only thing that could make this better is being with Henry.”

Regina smiles and then contently hums as she leans her head against Emma’s shoulder while they walk hand in hand into the bar. She’s so sure she has everything she could ever want and that she’s ready to go back, to leave behind a world that finally gave them the time and space to come together, despite some hesitation and resistance.

Cruella starts a slow clap with a sly grin on her face as she stares at the two of them on their way to the counter. The nearly crazed woman is already seated at the bar with Ursula sitting a stool apart from her and a drink within arm’s reach. She looks a little torn, internally conflicted, and Regina only recognizes the look from many days of unavoidably seeing it reflected back at her in the mirror.

“Good for you,” Cruella says. “You finally shagged it out.”

Emma brushes against her as the blonde moves partially in front of her like a human shield. It's a little ridiculous, because if she doesn't have magic there she assumes Emma doesn't either, and Cruella's never truly been a threat to them. The villainous woman just pretended to be one. She appreciates the thought behind Emma's actions, however. She doesn't need protection, but it's still nice to know there's someone who'd do anything to keep her safe. Which Emma's proven over and over again.

"Ooh, touchy subject," Cruella asks as her eyes dart to and focus on Emma, who Regina can only assume is glaring down at her. She also didn't put it past the blonde to bare her teeth in a silent growl, which is cute because of Cruella's thing about puppies. What Cruella actually does to those puppies is less cute, but Emma thinking that acting like a feral dog in front of Cruella is what amuses Regina enough to make her smile.

She ducks her head behind Emma's shoulder to hide her expression, but Cruella notices and makes a joke at Emma's expense. The blonde looks over her shoulder at Regina with a furrowed brow and looks almost hurt, like Regina's smile was an act of betrayal. But Regina responds with a well-placed hand to Emma's back and soothingly starts to rub it up and down until she lightly scratches the back of the younger woman's neck with a gentle use of her nails. Emma melts into her almost immediately.

"Good girl," Cruella teases, but Regina digs her nails in just a little bit harder and tangles her fingers in blonde hair.

Emma doesn't retaliate at all.

Cruella smirks at her like she couldn’t be prouder to see a fellow villain tame a hero, and maybe Cruella is proud. Regina doesn't care. She just wants to avoid an altercation, especially after last night and such a peaceful morning. She wants to enjoy it a little longer even when she's no longer holed up somewhere alone with Emma.

"Ursula," she calls out and steps around Emma to be seen fully by the fourth woman at the bar. "You look like you could use a drinking buddy."

She hears Emma chuckle beside her, the sound soft but almost directly in her ear. She shoots Emma a look that tells her to keep her thoughts to herself because she already knows exactly what the other woman is thinking.

_"You don't a speech, you need a drinking buddy. Shots?"_

Regina takes the stool between Ursula and Cruella and looks at the busy bartender at the other end of the counter before she looks at Ursula's drink, and then Ursula herself. The woman isn't exactly frowning, but it's clear there's something on her mind. She wonders if Cruella's noticed, or even cares, and considers telling her to focus more on her own girlfriend than Emma. She doesn't share that thought though and instead directs all her attention on the person who seems most affected by whatever's happened...or hasn't happened, as might be the case.

"What's going on," she asks. She waits several seconds for a response, but Ursula only spins her drink around on the countertop slowly before she lifts it to her lips and downs almost half of what's left in her tumbler. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Ursula sets her glass back down and shakes her head. "Not here," she quietly answers.

She nods and puts a hand on Ursula's arm as a small comfort to let the woman know she's there. Ursula looks at her with slightly wide eyes that hold a hint of shock and disbelief in them. She smiles at Ursula and feels her eyes crinkle as she tries her best to convey, without words, that she understands; because even though she's not sure what Ursula's going through, she's almost certain she's been through something similar.

"I see you've taken care of my daughter," Cora says from somewhere behind her.

When she turns around on the stool to face her mother, she sees the older woman approach the bar with an amused smile directed at Emma.

Emma faces Cora and stiffens, but not out of fear. The younger woman is rigid like she's preparing for a fight, her eyes sharp and solid like steel and her fists clenched tight enough at her sides to turn her knuckles white. Emma's jaw is just as tense as the rest of her body and Regina worries she'll grind her teeth if she's not careful, which is the least of Regina's concerns in that moment.

She slides off the stool and nearly throws herself between the two of them.

"Cora," Emma growls out like she's trying desperately not to start something, and she probably is.

"Hello again, dear. You might as well relax. I'm not here to intervene," Cora says.

"Forgive me if our history makes it hard for me to believe that," Emma replies.

Regina wants to trust her mother, trust that she's been nothing but nice and unthreatening to her since the woman popped into her part of Hell, but she also has a history with Cora and can't help but be painfully reminded of it when she sees her mother and Emma standing almost toe-to-toe in front of her.

"It's okay," she tells Emma and grips the blonde's arm just above the elbow. "She means it."

Emma's focus shifts to her and looks sympathetic, but Regina also sees the uncertainty and distrust in her eyes. She understands that completely, and while she isn't quite convinced that Cora isn't ultimately up to something, she wants to give her mother the benefit of the doubt, because things are different there. They certainly were, and still are, for her and Emma. And Cora hasn't even so much as belittled her yet. So it seems unlikely she'll go ripping out hearts and trying to obtain more power for herself.

Emma pulls back after a moment and Regina breathes a little easier.

“Thank you,” Cora says and looks between the two of them. “I can’t say I’m entirely surprised in your choice, dear.”

She furrows a brow and cocks her head as she regards her mother. “Why not?”

“Well, I have met her before. She’s feisty. And you already share a son, don’t you?”

“You didn’t think we were capable of sharing him,” Regina mentions.

Cora chuckles. “Neither did you. At least not back then, but things change.”

“Like you,” Emma asks a little accusingly.

“Regina’s changed. Why is it so hard to believe I’ve changed too? I have my heart again. I _died_ with it,” Cora explains. “I might not have been given a second chance at life, but I’m certainly not going to waste this second chance I have at making amends with my daughter.”

“One of your daughters,” Regina corrects her. “What about Zelena?”

Cora sighs and guiltily looks down at the floor for a moment. “I realize you’re not the only person I’ve hurt in the past. But Zelena isn’t here. You are. If she were here, I would apologize for leaving her, but there’s nothing more I can do than that. It isn’t as if I can turn back time and take it all back.”

“Even if you could, I doubt you’d do that,” Emma says in a deep, slightly gravelly voice.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

Her eyes widen in shock and she takes a step back. Emma looks equally shocked despite thinking Cora wouldn’t have changed anything about Regina’s childhood.

“Not now that I see where it’s led Regina,” Cora adds. “I _am_ sorry that I hurt you, but I’m not sorry you found something you’ve always wanted.”

“A life free from your control,” Emma asks.

“Emma,” Regina quietly chides.

“Love,” Cora answers and keeps her eyes focused solely on Emma. The woman doesn’t even blink. It’s partially a look of a protective mother, but mostly just a stare down to prove she’s serious.

Regina feels rocked to her core. She’s trusted Cora so far not to destroy everything she holds dear, but she hasn’t completely been able to believe that her mother wants her to be happy and not just what the woman thinks is best for her.

“But…love is…weakness,” she repeats her mother’s words with confusion.

“A very cynical man once told me that and I believed him, but a very smart and brave woman also told me love is strength,” Cora says to her and then looks at Emma.

Emma’s cheeks turn pink like she’s just been embarrassed in public by a parent, but Regina doesn’t get it. Not until the blonde says, “Well, it is.”

Cora smiles. “I see that,” her mother says as she looks from Emma to Regina. “It’s how you’re here. It’s how my daughter still has a fighting chance in your world.”

Emma’s speechless, and truthfully so is she.

Cora steps forward and eliminates most of the space between herself and Emma. It instantly makes Regina nervous, but all she does is rest a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder before she speaks again. “Don’t you dare hurt her or I’ll find a way to haunt you.”

Emma breathes out a laugh and relaxes under Cora’s touch. Regina watches the two of them as relief washes over her.

“You laugh now,” Cora says, though she continues to smile even as she adds to her threat to haunt Emma, “but I found a way to sneak into this part of Hell. You should trust that I’ll be able to sneak my way into your thoughts and dreams.”

“Right then,” Cruella cuts in. “Enough of this sap. Cheers to you and yours.” She raises her glass to three of them and then tips it back and downs the rest of its contents. When she sets the glass back down on the bar, she calls the bartender over and orders them all another round.

With air cleared between them all, she tugs Emma by the arm to join her at the bar. Ursula starts to slide over so Emma can sit next to her, but both she and Emma hold Ursula in place from either side of the woman.

“Now you’ve got two drinking buddies,” Emma tells her with a smile. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have any idea how to get here, remember? I owe you one.”

Ursula flashes a fleeting smile at her and then starts in on the newly ordered drink in front of her.

“To a glorious afterlife,” Cruella toasts as they all start to settle in at the bar.

She and Emma look across the counter at each other and smile before they raise their glasses and say, “To Hell.”

The four of them clink their glasses and celebrate all the good things they have to enjoy in that moment, and drink away the bad.

* * *

Several hours later, a more energetic style of music starts to play and people head out onto the dance floor. Cruella and Cora are tipsy and cackling at something only they know, and apparently think is hilarious, while Ursula remains quiet and watches everyone else move on the floor, like she had her first night there. She’s about to ask Ursula what’s on her mind when she sees her mother whisk Cruella off to the dance floor. The two women stumble a little along the way, but successfully find a spot for themselves among the small crowd.

She and Emma stay with Ursula. The three of them watch everyone on the floor enjoy themselves for a few more minutes before Regina finally decides to broach a subject Ursula probably wants to avoid, but needs to discuss. She turns away from the dancers and faces the other woman to give her undivided attention, which doesn’t go unnoticed by either Ursula or Emma.

She catches Emma’s gaze over the top of Ursula’s slightly lowered head and the blonde nods at her as though the younger woman knows exactly what she’s about to do and approves. It’s probably true. Emma probably does know what she’s up to and supports her decision and, not that she needs Emma to back her up for her to do it, she’s grateful for that.

Careful not to startle or do something Ursula doesn’t want, Regina rests a hand on the other woman’s arm and gives her a little squeeze. When the two of them make eye contact, she flashes a smile that’s meant to comfort Ursula. She’s not sure it does, but she pushes forward anyway.

“Did something happen with you and Cruella,” she asks.

Ursula snorts and starts to cry. The sight before her is like watching a dam break, and while she’s surprised to see Ursula suffer this way, she’s not surprised by the way it comes pouring out of her. Ursula’s held on to her pain and doubts and fears for far too long and it’s enough to make anyone snap. As the Sea Queen opens up to her and Emma about what she’s been trying to figure out on her own, Regina feels her heart break for the woman.

“I’m so thankful that I’ve been able to spend as much time with my father as I have, but…I’m not sure I’m ready to leave all that to spend the rest of eternity here,” Ursula explains with a shaky voice. Her cheeks are already stained with tears and she runs her fingers around the rim of her empty glass out of nervous habit. Simply put, she’s a wreck. “When I told him what I wanted to do, he said he was sad, but that he understood. He doesn’t even know her and he even mentioned that he probably doesn’t understand what I even see in her, but he gets how I feel about her. And that’s all he needs to know to be okay with my decision.”

“What did you decide,” Emma asks.

“Nothing yet. The whole point was to come here and find out what I wanted. Either way I lose something I care about. I can’t be happy in one place or the other. Not unless I have them both.”

And that’s when it all clicks for Regina. She’s empathetic to Ursula’s plight because she knows what it’s like to think one world might have the happiness she needs that the other has failed to give her. While that eventually proved to be true for Regina, she spent so many years during the curse wondering if she’d made a mistake. She wasn’t happy in the Enchanted Forest and she wasn’t happy in Storybrooke. The only difference was that in Storybrooke, she’d sacrificed her father—the only family she had left—for a chance at the happiness she was told she could have in the new land. She finally adopted her son and for the first time in years felt that she had made the right decision, as painful as it was. Years later, she fought against and with Emma until she just _fell_. She fell so hard and so fast and she wasn’t even sure when it happened. Her home is with Henry and Emma, wherever they are. But just as she knows she’s deeply in love with Emma Swan, she also knows Storybrooke is where she found them.

“I don’t know what to do,” Ursula admits.

“Have you…talked to Cruella about it,” Emma asks with a furrowed brow and treads lightly.

“I tried, but…she’s a bit of sociopath. She doesn’t feel things like we do. So every time I’ve tried to ask her if she’d ever be interested in trying to go back and…start over, she just brushes it off. She always makes it sound like being bad _here_ is more fun than being alive ever was or could be.”

“Obviously you don’t feel that way,” Regina surmises.

Ursula shakes her head. “I want to be with her, but I’m not sure what she wants is worth all I’d be giving up. Does that sound horrible? Shouldn’t I be willing to do anything to be with her if I love her?”

 _Yes_ , Regina thinks as she meets Emma’s eyes over Ursula’s head again. But Ursula’s situation is a little different, and Cruella really is sort of a sociopath, so she’s not quite sure how to answer that question.

“You still took a chance on her,” Emma cuts in. “You came back to Storybrooke to try to get her back, and as soon as you found out she was here, you found a way to get to her. Maybe you’re not sure the two of you want the same thing, but you _are_ sure that you’d do anything to at least find out if what you had and what you want for the future is redeemable. If I was her, I’d be willing to know where your head was at so we could talk about where to go from here.”

“Yeah, well, that’s not how Cruella is,” Ursula says.

“She doesn’t know what she has,” Emma replies and then looks to the dance floor at Cruella as she moves with Cora to the beat of the song. Regina doesn’t like how close the woman is to her mother, but that’s not important at the moment. “But I wouldn’t give up on her just yet.”

Those words, as they fall from Emma’s lips, pull her attention from the dance floor to the blonde herself and she’s only mildly shocked to see green eyes already focused on her when she turns her head. She takes a moment to gather her thoughts while her eyes remain on Emma’s, and when she finally has the ability to speak again, she says, “She doesn’t know yet, but I’m sure given the right motivation she’ll see it for herself.”

The song switches over to something else just as upbeat as the previous selection and she almost wouldn’t have noticed the difference in music if she also hadn’t heard her mother cheer about it. She turns her attention back to the dance floor and stares in confusion and surprise as she watches her mother move in a very suggestive way while she laughs and occasionally belts out lyrics. She notices the way Cruella laughs with Cora and how her mother puts her hands on the fur-loving woman’s shoulders every so often like she needs the other woman to keep her on her feet, which seems more than likely given how Cora teeters every third movement or so.

She’s distracted just long enough to miss the way Emma and Ursula start to panic, but she still catches the way they look at each other with wide eyes and grave expressions. For a moment, Regina thinks one or both of them has made a frightening conclusion about Ursula’s predicament. When she gives it more thought and looks a little harder at the way their expressions change ever so slightly when they start to talk to each other in hushed tones made inaudible to her by the loud music, she realizes something is wrong. Something is terrifyingly wrong.

As soon as Emma’s eyes snap up and meet hers, Ursula spins in her stool and searches for Cruella in the crowd. Regina barely registers Ursula’s movements because her eyes are focused on Emma. All she sees is Emma and lets her mind run wild as she imagines the worst. She’s not sure what exactly could be the worst outcome when they’re both in Hell, but she quickly finds out when Ursula rushes to Cruella and Emma doesn’t hesitate to swoop into the vacated space between them to kiss her.

Of all the kisses they’ve shared, this one is the most disparaging one yet. Emma cups her face with both hands and holds her close as she lets each of her desperate kisses linger. Afraid of whatever comes next, she clings to Emma like she’ll drown without her. Truthfully, that’s exactly what she’ll do if something happens to the blonde. It’s what had started to happen when she first arrived in Hell and she’s not sure she’s strong enough to pull herself to the surface again if Emma suddenly disappears.

When Emma finally pulls away for good, Regina hears a choked sob. She’s not sure which one of them is crying, but when she opens her bleary eyes she learns it’s both of them.

“I love you,” Emma says with a sad smile just before a tear rolls down her cheek.

“I love you, too,” she replies with a creased brow. “What’s going on, Emma? What aren’t you telling me?”

Emma chuckles, but it’s not the same kind of free and bubbly laugh she’s heard from the younger woman recently. It’s darker and more pained. “You don’t even know what’s wrong and you’re already crying?”

“I can feel something,” she says in a softer tone than before, her voice almost as small as she suddenly feels. “I can tell something’s wrong and you just confirmed it. Please talk to me. Tell me what’s happening.”

She pleads with the blonde and it’s like losing her to the darkness all over again. It isn’t fair. They’re only supposed to lose each other once in a single lifetime, but now it just feels like they’ve been losing each other since the day they met. Still completely lost, Regina feels her heart ache. It _physically_ aches and she’s even more confused now than ever.

“Emma?”

The younger woman sniffles as she takes a deep breath and steadies herself. “You have to fight,” Emma firmly tells her as though there isn’t any other option. “Fight for your life, Regina.”

She grabs both of Emma’s forearms and tries to anchor herself with the contact while the blonde strokes the pads of her thumbs over her cheeks. She slides her hands up Emma’s arms toward the woman’s wrists, and along the way one of her hands starts to feel slick with something warm and sticky. She looks down and pulls Emma’s arm away from her just far enough to see the blood that covers fair skin and her own fingers.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head before she quickly looks back up at Emma with wide, imploring eyes.

“What did you do,” she asks.

“It had to be your choice,” Emma explains. “If you knew what was happening, you wouldn’t make the choice based on what you wanted. You would have been forced to do what you thought was right. And now…you have the freedom to do what your heart tells you.”

“I don’t… Emma, I don’t understand.”

The blonde smiles at her and more tears fall from her deep green eyes. “It’s your choice,” Emma slowly repeats herself and starts to have trouble breathing. “But don’t give up on all you have left to live for.”

Emma kisses her again and it feels like the last time. When the blonde goes limp in her arms, Regina feels the weight in every part of her body, not just in her arms. Her heart is heavy and she’s filled with dread. She feels her heartbeat slow and her breathing becomes ragged, but the deep cut on Emma’s arm is worrying enough to keep her eyes open and her mind alert. Whatever’s happening to her isn’t going to stop her from making sure Emma survives this. Even if it’s the last thing she does.

“Help,” she shouts. “Hades!”

He doesn’t appear nearly as fast as her mother does. Cora hurries to her side and looks genuinely concerned as she falls to the floor with Emma cradled in her arms. As soon as he approaches her, she can tell he’s known whatever Emma kept from her. He looks almost crushed to see Regina’s worst nightmare relived.

“Do something,” she demands with wild and desperate eyes.

“I wish I could, but there’s…nothing I can do,” Hades answers.

“What do you mean? This is _your_ realm! You can do whatever you want. You can fix this,” she yells.

Her mother presses a hand down on her shoulder from where the woman stands beside her. She isn’t calmed by the action, but she refrains from snapping at Hades to close her eyes and slump forward a little.

“Is she dying,” Cora carefully asks Hades for her instead of demanding something she can’t seem to get from the ruler of the Underworld.

She gasps and quickly looks up at Hades as she waits to hear his answer.

“Yes.”

Regina tightens her grip on Emma and stares down at the unconscious woman. A pained sound rips out of her before she can stifle it and she starts to sob again. She swallows the thick lump in her throat before she frantically insists, “She's not dying.”

“It's the price she knew she would pay if she stayed here too long,” Hades explains. 

“She's not dying,” she says again, more firm than frantic that time. “She didn't let me die when the wrath was after me. She didn't let me die when I tried to stop the trigger by myself. She wasn't going to let that Chernabog kill me when we all thought I was its target.”

She looks at Emma like she looked at her mother when she held her in her arms and watched her die. She won’t lose her. She can’t lose anyone else, just as she knows Emma couldn’t lose her either.

“No,” she says with unwavering determination. “She's not dying. I won't let her.”

“Then you already know what you have to do,” Hades says with wise, soulful eyes that stare down at her and almost put her in a trance.

“What—” she doesn’t finish her question as she feels her heart slow even more. She feels tired and her eyes start to droop, but she can’t die. Even if she only falls asleep for a few moments and wakes up in the same position she’s in right now, she can’t let Emma die and spend the rest of eternity alone somewhere. Because Emma won’t stay in Hell if she dies, and dying means she’ll never see Henry or her parents again. Not for a long time yet. Emma doesn’t deserve that. She deserves life and happiness.

“She came here for you, dear,” she faintly hears Cora say.

She looks at her mother and is slightly thrown off by how close the woman suddenly is as the elder Mills crouches down beside her.

“I think she’s made it clear that she wants you to live,” her mother adds.

“Not if her life is the price,” she says as she absent-mindedly runs her fingers through Emma’s hair.

“Regina.”

She waits a few seconds before she looks at Cora again. When she does, she sees compassion in her brown eyes. Her eyes have never been soft or inviting. They’d been little black coals that struck fear in her whenever she misbehaved. But now, she sees the truth in them. She sees the _selflessness_ before her mother even takes a breath to say what she says next.

“You don’t belong here. _Emma_ doesn’t belong here.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she confesses with a watery voice, and although she can’t see herself pout, she feels the downturn of her lips as she silently begs Cora to give her all the answers. “Tell me what to do, Mother.”

Cora brushes a hand through her hair and tucks a strand behind her ear. Her mother leans in a little closer and stares at her so intently she’s almost sure Cora can see right into her very soul in that moment. “What you do next depends entirely on your answer.”

She furrows her brow, but her mother speaks again before she has a chance to ask the woman what she means.

“Do you love her?”

She takes a shuddery breath, but doesn’t at all hesitate when she says, “With all my heart.”

And just like that, the solution clicks into place like the missing piece of a puzzle.

“Do you still have your magic,” she asks.

“Yes,” Cora replies with a questioning look on face.

“Take her heart.”

“What?” Her mother rears back and shakes her head.

“It’s the only way. Please.”

“You want me to…crush it?”

“No. I just…I can’t do this myself. I don’t have my magic. Maybe that’s because I’m still attached to Storybrooke. I don’t know. But I _do_ know that I need to see her heart. If there’s still a chance… I just have to know if what I’m thinking will work.”

Cora takes a moment then nods and carefully moves forward. The other woman places a hand on Emma’s chest and slowly applies pressure. It’s nothing like what happened with Daniel and Cora seems to take as much precaution as she can while she retrieves the startlingly half-black, half-red heart.

The black part of Emma’s heart is as hard as stone and it flows into the other half of her heart, which still flashes a faint red color as the heart beats in Cora’s hand.

“It’s dying,” Regina says to herself more than her mother.

“Because she’s still alive,” Cora says, a little mystified.

“Just barely, but it’s enough.” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes for a moment as she tries to hope like a Charming. Somehow it always seems to work for them. She opens her eyes and watches her mother looking down at Emma’s heart with something like amazement. “Now take mine,” she gently commands.

Cora breaks out of her daze and looks up at her, aghast. “No. Regina, you could die.”

“I’m already dying. At least this way I have a chance to save one of us. Henry shouldn’t be alone and right now it’s all or nothing. Will you help me?”

Her mother doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she responds with a hand to her chest and removes her heart. She gasps as she feels it leave her body and stares down at the black speckled heart that Cora holds like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Emma’s heart delicately rests in her other hand and the two of them side by side really puts things into perspective, especially given what she’s about to do.

“Mold them into one,” she instructs her mother.

Cora doesn’t pause or ask any questions. Fully committed to helping Regina at least try to have a happy ending, it seems, her mother slowly pushes the two hearts together until they’re joined as one.

The dead, charcoal-like part of Emma’s heart is replaced with a thriving part of Regina’s heart that fits into place against the surviving red portion of Emma’s, as if they were always meant to be connected. Both she and Cora are fascinated and she neglects to give her mother any further instruction as she stares in awe.

She feels a jolt in her empty chest when their joined heart blinks red like a beacon calling someone home. She pulls herself out of her reverie and places a hand on the heart so that it’s nestled between her hand and Cora’s. Only then does she look up from the heart and at her mother before she says, “Pull.”

Carefully, they pull the heart in opposite directions until it splits in two.

“My better half,” Regina says with a hint of amusement as she holds the half of the heart that once belonged to her and eliminated the decay from Emma’s heart. “Put this half in her and at the same time, give me the other half.”

Cora takes both halves of the heart and positions them where directed. Only a few seconds pass before her mother gently pushes each half into place.

A burst of light knocks her back. She gasps as she feels the half of the heart inside her start to beat at a regular pace.

“You did it,” she hears from somewhere in front of her.

She looks to her mother and sees her smiling like she had just before she died, so happy and maybe even a little relieved. But her mother hasn’t said anything. She’s just beaming. Just as she starts to turn her attention to the woman in her lap, Emma’s eyes become level with hers as the blonde sits up.

Emma’s smile rivals Cora’s, but hers looks more like a playful puppy. As cute as it is, Regina has more pressing matters to address.

She launches forward and crashes their lips together. She doesn’t care how long it lasts, how indecent it gets, or who sees. They’re alive. And just like the true love of Emma’s parents, they now share a heart.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Regina exhales against Emma’s lips when they pull apart the tiniest bit.

“Clearly you had to believe it was a valid option if you tried it,” Emma says with a hint of laughter.

Regina chuckles and rests her forehead against Emma’s. She lightly scrapes her nails against the back of Emma’s neck and silky blonde hair that cascades down the younger woman’s back. After a moment, she looks over and sees her mother still smiling at both of them.

“Thank you,” she says through new tears. Happy tears.

Cora starts to tear up as well, even as she continues to smile. “Be happy, my dears. And take care of each other.”

As happy as she is to know she’ll see Henry again with Emma by her side every step of the way from now on, she feels the bittersweet pang of this moment. A new part of her life is just about to begin, but a good and far too short part of her life is ending. Once again, she has to say goodbye to her mother.

Emma lets her go as she moves to her mother in an instant and hugs her for the first time in a long time. It’s been so long she doesn’t even remember the last time it happened. She squeezes Cora like she doesn’t want to let go, and there’s a large part of her that doesn’t, but she knows where she needs to be.

Cora wraps her arms around her and rubs her back a few times before they separate. “I love you,” her mother says, and it’s the first time she’s ever heard those words from the woman.

“I love you, too,” she replies as she hugs Cora one last time before she pulls back and stands up with Emma’s help.

“I’m so sorry, dahling. If I could do anything to chance this, I would.”

She looks past her mother as Cora slowly gets to her feet as well and sees Cruella looking at Ursula with devastated eyes.

“Is there a way we can help them,” Emma asks Hades who Regina forgot was still there until that moment.

“Only a life for a life can save them now,” Hades apologetically admits. “I was hoping they’d solve their problems sooner so that they would have an easier time leaving, like you both do now, but Ursula isn’t even partially living now. And that complicates things.”

So the goodbye is more bitter than it is sweet. It’s not quite the happy ending Regina envisioned, but there isn’t anything more she can do from Hell. She turns to Emma and takes the younger woman’s hand while the blonde continues to look sadly at Ursula and Cruella. It takes a little time, but she regains Emma’s attention. When she does, she squeezes Emma’s hand and says, “Let’s go home.”


	9. Chapter 9

Getting out of Hell is easier than getting in, Emma assures her, but she doesn't quite agree as she feels lightheaded when she tries to sit up. Her body feels foreign to her at first, like she's been less constricted without it long enough to have to re-assimilate. It's strange and not something she has done or ever wants to do again. But at least she's home and has the opportunity to be with her son again, unlike Ursula who's damned to a world without her father, whom she's only recently reunited with. All because she and Cruella couldn't work things out together quick enough for her to have a choice.

Meanwhile, Emma nearly died trying ensure she herself had one. That wasn't something to take lightly, but when she finally had a bearing on her body and her surroundings, she finally let herself react to what Emma had done.

She smacks the blonde's arm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for," Emma asks.

"You almost _died_ and left Henry all alone!"

"Seriously? You're complaining about how I saved your life?"

And isn't this conversation familiar.

"I wouldn't do anything differently," Emma tells her. "I think we both know that. I did what I had to do and you found a way to bring me back from the brink of death."

"With so little time to spare! Don't _ever_ do that to me again."

"Only if it isn't absolutely necessary."

"Never," she insists and points a stiff finger at the younger woman.

" _Almost_ never."

"Absolutely never!"

Emma smirks and casually says, "Agree to disagree."

She groans. "You're a pain in my ass, Miss Swan."

"You're really gonna call me that again? We've seen each other naked, _Madam Mayor_. I don't think there's anything you can call me that will remove you enough from whatever situation we're in."

She rolls her eyes.

"But it might be kind of kinky to hear you call me that the next time we share a bed," Emma adds with a grin. "Or floor. Or any semi-flat surface. Anywhere, really."

Before she can even think to turn down the enticing offer, there's a rumble that shakes the entire house that's followed by people shouting.

"What the hell is that," she asks with almost feral eyes directed at the living room window that overlooks Emma's front yard.

"Um, I don't think we've been gone long enough for a new villain to terrorize us, so...I think there's only one thing that could be," Emma answers. "And you're not gonna like it."

* * *

"How could you leave our son here when Hook is still menacing the town," she angrily asks once both of them have materialized in the Mifflin mansion with their own clouds of smoke.

"We would have lost you! And my parents were supposed to take of care of it."

"No, _you_ were supposed to take care of it. He's your boyfriend, your problem!"

"That's not how I remember you feeling when you took that sword for me," Emma argues, and she's not wrong.

"That's not the point," she quickly says before the blonde can see even the slightest trace of agreement on her face.

"Oh, really? And what is?"

"I thought you killed him! You were looking at his ring like you'd already lost him."

"I did! Just...not because he was _gone_."

Regina huffs as she reaches the top of the stairs. "You didn't just go to Hell to get me. You used it as an excuse to avoid doing what needs to be done."

"If I had the time to kill him, I would have, but you were _dying_. You might not have made it even another minute if I hadn't cast that preservation spell."

"You... What?" She stops in front of Henry's door and gives Emma all her attention. "You cast a preservation spell? How?"

"I just...did what you taught me. I concentrated and tried to apply the same logic behind a protection spell to a preservation spell." Emma sighs. "I know you're pissed, but I had to choose between going after him or bringing you back. I chose you, Regina."

She instantly melts after hearing those words. She reaches out and gently cups one of Emma's cheeks as she flashes a warm and appreciative smile at the blonde. Now isn't the time to kiss Emma or talk about how proud she is of the other woman, but she hopes her touch and the look in her eyes is enough to convey how she feels in the short time they have to sort things out.

Emma leans into her touch for a moment and then moves toward her. She thinks Emma's about to do exactly what they shouldn't do just then, but instead the blonde reaches for the doorknob and twists.

Emma pushes the door open behind her and she takes the hint before they both step into the room together.

"Moms," Henry exclaims from his bed a split second before he dashes across the floor and smacks into them for a tight family hug.

Regina sags with relief and hugs him back while she wraps an arm around Emma as well and holds both of them close. This is what she's fought so hard for over the years. This is what she's been so afraid to lose. Now that she finally has it, she's never letting it go.

"Henry," Emma says on an exhale and slides a hand up Regina's back. "What are you doing here by yourself?"

"Grandma and Gramps told me to stay here. They thought I might be safer here because they're pretty sure you protected the house," Henry replies and looks at her when he talks about the magical wards she does actually have in place.

"Well, they're right," she tells both Henry and Emma. "But I don't like that they put all their trust in something they weren't completely sure of, especially because of the extenuating circumstances. My magic might not have worked here, because of where I was."

"But it did. And I'm okay," Henry assures her. "They might not be, though."

"What's going on," Emma asks.

Henry looks at her and answers, "Hook. He has all the past Dark Ones following him around town trying to harvest all the magic he can using Excalibur. I guess _almost_ killing you wasn't enough, Mom."

That part he directs at her and for a moment, she smirks.

"Good," she says and Emma smiles at her.

"Not so good," Henry tells them. "He might not be completely in power yet, but he's done plenty of damage. He burned down your office."

She grimaces and clenches her fists at her sides. "Where is he now?"

"I-I don't know. The last thing Grandma and Gramps told me they were going to do was head to the station for weapons. They kind of formed a militia.”

“Their typical war counsel, I’m sure,” she says and then turns to Emma. “Go do what you need to do. Then come back here.”

“Home,” Emma softly says and flashes her and Henry a quick smile.

“Home,” she echoes.

Emma wraps them up in another group hug before she leaves and Regina pulls Henry into her side.

“I missed you,” Henry says and buries his face in her neck as he hugs her again.

“I missed you, too, Henry.” She hugs him back, her eyes closed. She presses a kiss to the top of his head. “And I am so happy to be back. Now, there’s something I think we need to talk about.”

“What is it? Did something happen?”

“Yes, but it’s a good thing. At least, I hope you agree that it’s a good thing,” she starts to explain. “While Emma and I were away, we…we grew close.”

“Did she tell you?”

She furrows her brow. “Did she tell me what?”

“That she loves you,” Henry replies like the answer should have been obvious.

She stutters for a short time before she eventually manages to tell him, “Yes. She did.”

“And?”

“And…what?”

“What did you say?”

“I…” she shakes her head before she continues. “Henry, how did you know she loves me?”

“Mom, she went to Hell and back for you. She couldn’t accept that you were gone, and it hurt her as much as it hurt me to think you weren’t gonna make it. She wouldn’t do any of that, or feel that way, if she didn’t love you. So what did you say?”

“I…I love her, too.”

Henry smiles at her, his eyes alight with joy. “So…what does that mean?”

“It means I have a question to ask her when she gets back, but I need an answer from you before I do that.”

His smile brightens and asks, “What do you need to know?”

* * *

She stares down at his body, limp and pale.

"It's over," she says out loud, though it's mostly a reassurance to herself. She closes her eyes and momentarily tips her head back as she takes a deep breath. She sighs and feels her shoulders sag upon exhale. It's a relief to not have to worry about what Hook and the other Dark Ones might do, but it's not a relief that another relationship of hers has ended fatally. 

"I'm so sorry, Emma," her mother says as she steps toward her. 

She feels a hand on her shoulder and she lets the tears out. She turns to her mother and hugs her as she cries and cries and cries. When she killed Cruella she hadn't felt remorse, but Hook had posed a major threat to her family after becoming a Dark One like her, and that was her fault. He may not have been a good guy, but she's the one who turned him into a monster. And now she's slayed the beast. It wasn't a tough decision, but it's still something she has to live with, and right now she just needs to be reminded that everything's going to be okay. It might not be rainbows and sunshine at this moment in time, but she's not alone, and she did what needed to be done. She set her heart free in Hell and by letting Hook finally die like he should have in Camelot, she finally let go as well. 

Her father sandwiches her in a group hug and she's not sure how much time passes before she hears him ask, "Is Regina back?"

"Yeah," she quietly responds, her voice broken and wet as she speaks into Snow's hair with her arms still tight around her mother's waist. 

"You brought her back," her mother says with a little surprise, a lot of relief and so much pride.

Finally, they pull apart and Snow puts her hands on both of Emma's shoulders as her father steps around to stand beside Snow and face her. 

"And Henry? He's okay at the house," Snow asks. 

"Yeah. Regina's with him now."

They nod and then exchange a look that makes Emma furrow her brow in confusion. 

"Go," Charming says. "Be with them. We'll take care of everything here."

"Are you... I shouldn't let you deal with this. It's my fau—"

Snow shakes her head and Charming sighs as he gives her a comforting smile.

"No. Things didn't go as planned. It happens. He still had a choice, even though he wasn't happy with how things turned out," Snow tells her.

"We're so glad you're safe," Charming says then. "And if Regina doesn't slam the door in our face, we'll stop by later."

She chuckles and nods before they hug again. "I'll warn her and ask nicely if she'll let you stay."

She's just about to leave when she hears a familiar voice in the distance.

"That was dreadful. Honestly, dahling, is that what you went through to find me?"

She turns around and squints at the two figures approaching. 

"I'd rather not do that again," Cruella says as she smooths out her fur. 

Ursula laughs and says, "Let's hope the next time we die, we're meant to be dead. And stay that way."

Emma smiles. It doesn't make Hook's death any easier, but it's proof that good things are yet to come. 

* * *

Emma trudges through the front door and collapses into a chair at the dining room table where she and Henry are waiting for the blonde in front of cooling food. It was hard to concentrate on cooking the longer Emma was out of the house. Because the more time they waited for her return, the more worry she felt that the other woman wouldn’t make it back, even after all they’d gone through in Hell. But Emma’s there. She’s home. She looks sad and exhausted, but she’s safe.

“What happened,” she asks and places a hand on top of the blonde’s.

“He’s dead. I handled it,” Emma answers and then looks apologetically at Henry before she goes back to staring down at the table. “I just… I’m glad it’s over. I’m not sorry he’s gone. I just wish it- I wish _I_ hadn’t been so stupid. Then all of this could have been avoided.”

She squeezes the woman’s hand and watches as Henry grabs Emma’s free hand the same way.

“At least there’s a silver lining,” Emma says.

Regina tilts her head to the side and silently questions what Emma means. She doesn’t have to vocalize her confusion because Emma answers what she’s curious about within seconds.

“I was able to exchange Hook’s life for Ursula’s.”

Her eyes pop open wide in surprise. “And Cruella?”

“I killed him using Excalibur, and because he’s dead, no pulse dead, it made his Dark One army disappear. Apparently it took an entire history of the most powerful villains to bring Cruella back.”

“So they’re here,” she asks with a hopeful smile. “They’re happy?”

Emma nods and slowly starts to smile as well. “They’re on their way to the harbor to call Ursula’s dad back into town. I think they’re gonna stick around for a while.”

“I’m sorry you had to kill him,” Henry says. “But it sounds like things worked out.”

Emma’s smile is less pained then as she looks at him. “They did.”

“Maybe even for the best,” Henry says and slyly looks over at her. He raises his eyebrows and she reads his expression as a silent way to nudge her.

“What’s going on,” Emma suspiciously asks, her eyes narrowed.

“Mom wants to ask you something,” Henry replies.

Emma’s focus turns to her and she shifts in her seat. She runs her hands over her clothes out of nervous habit as she clears her throat and then makes eye contact with the blonde before she speaks.

“Emma, I know you only recently moved out of the apartment, and I’m sure you like your space, but…after everything we’ve been through, I think we could…” She sighs when she struggles to get the words out. She takes a deep breath and starts over. “I wouldn’t mind having you here. Permanently.”

“You… Are you asking me to move in,” Emma asks.

“Very poorly, but yes,” she says with a hint of laughter. “Would you like to move in with me? With _us_.”

Emma’s expression changes from shock to the purest form of happiness. If not for the night they had together before coming home, Regina wouldn’t have thought the look was possible after everything Emma’s had to do since agreeing to be a part of Operation Mongoose.

“Yes,” Emma breathlessly says.

Regina relaxes immediately and smiles. “Then it’s settled. You can stay in the guest room for now if you still want your own space, but—”

“I don’t want my own space,” Emma quickly tells her. “Unless you’re uncomfortable with it, I’m perfectly happy to share. Everything except my food. You might want to remember that when I take you out for dinner tomorrow night.”

“Tomorrow… Are you asking me out on a date?”

“We might be doing things a little out of order, but I still believe in romance. All couples at any stage in their relationship should definitely have date nights, and since we haven’t had any yet, I think this is as good a time as any to start.”

She beams at her and spares Henry a look before she replies, “I couldn’t agree more.”

Henry smiles so wide he shows his teeth and looks back and forth between the two of them.

“But that’s tomorrow,” she adds. “Tonight, we eat here. And quickly. Before we have to microwave everything.”

Emma and Henry laugh as they both try to dive in and, while Henry usually shovels food into his mouth as soon as it’s set in front of him, she’s surprised that Emma moves in on the food like she’s had dinner with them for years, not just a few times throughout the year. It’s surprising, but not at all unpleasant.

“So,” Henry starts to talk around a mouthful of food. “What was it like?”

“What was what like,” Emma asks, lacking just as many manners as Henry, and talks while she eats.

“Hell,” he answers. “Was it full of lava or fire? Or was it like a cave? Were there bats? And what about the Devil? Is it some red guy with a pointy tail or is the ruler of the Underworld more like Hades from the Hercules movie?”

“Too many questions, Kid,” Emma says before she shovels more food into her mouth. “We’ll tell you about it later.”

“Fine,” he replies before he goes back to eating. The silence doesn’t last long. “Wait, why doesn’t Emma look like she did before she went after you? You know, with the almost white hair and the leather outfits and the glittery face.”

Regina nearly drops her silverware, as she’s reminded of just what caused Emma’s transformation. She glances up at Emma across the table and the two of them immediately lock eyes.

Then it clicks for Henry, and there’s hope in his voice as he says, “She’s not the Dark One anymore.”

Regina swallows her food, which she’d refrained from chewing in her moment of panic, and says, “No.” It’s the only answer she can give him because her little prince is far from ready to have the sex talk. She doesn’t care if he’s twelve or thirty-five, although she knows she should talk to him about it soon. She just wants to avoid it for as long as possible. Or better yet, get Emma to do it.

“How’d that happen,” Henry asks, his brow furrowed as he stares expectantly at both of them.

Regina’s eyes are drawn away from their son when she hears Emma’s utensils clang against the other woman’s plate.

“That…is a long story for another day,” Emma explains.

“What? Come on. Why can’t you tell me now?”

“We’re tired,” Regina quickly answers. And then, because she can’t resist coming up with more excuses as to why they won’t tell Henry his mothers had amazing and intensely charged sex, she adds, “And your grandparents probably want to hear the story as well.”

“Oh god,” Emma groans with a slightly panicked look on her face. “My parents.”

Regina frowns.

“Um, they said they want to come over later. They, uh, had some things to handle, but they want to stop by and check in with everyone.”

Her eyes widen in alarm. She’s not exactly surprised, but she’s definitely not calm.

“Cool,” Henry says with a smile, oblivious to the tension in the room.

“I don’t think we’ll tell them _everything_ tonight,” Regina carefully says, her eyes on Emma at first before she directs her attention to Henry.

Henry sighs. “Okay, but I’m an author now, remember? I need the details. Eventually you have to tell me what really happened.”

She closes her eyes and tries not to blush with embarrassment at the implication that her son all but demanded to know every last bit about what she and Emma did in Hell with enough description to fill a book. When she opens her eyes, she sees Emma stifling a laugh from across the table. The blonde’s face is a bold shade of red and Regina’s fairly certain Emma hasn’t taken a breath since Henry’s last comment.

She shakes her head at Emma before a smile of her own starts to spread across her face. She basks in the sight before her. Her family. Her son and Emma, the woman who drove into town four years ago and infuriated her, all while subtly and slowly wriggling her way into Regina’s heart; a heart that now beats in time with Emma’s because they physically and metaphorically complete each other. Not even pixie dust and the promise of soulmates and fate can touch what they have. Today is the day they finally make fate their bitch and make their own destiny. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I really hope you enjoyed. Definitely don't be afraid to tell me what you think of the fic. :)


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